Slow Burn
by Liv Wilder
Summary: Nothing else exists in this world after Kate Beckett utters the words, "Castle, if we were getting married " with that open, adult look in her eye. AU set during 4x11: "Til Death Do Us Part"
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Hi, folks. This has been sitting on my hard drive forever so I thought I'd finish it and see what gives. Set during 4x11: "Til Death Do Us Part." You know the scene: "Are you really asking for my number?" ;)_

* * *

 _"Castle, if we were getting married, would you want to know about all the guys that I've slept with?"_

 **\- Kate Beckett, _"Til Death Do Us Part"_**

* * *

 **Slow Burn**

* * *

Nothing else exists in this world after Kate Beckett utters the words, "Castle, if we were getting married⏤" with that open, adult look in her eye.

His hearing shorts out along with his brain, which is fried like green tomatoes. But the words remain stuck in a loop inside his head, echoing, so that all he can hear is, _"_ Castle, _if we were getting married..." on repeat,_ which quickly morphs into _"Castle, we're getting married!"_ said in the same easy-breezy, coy tone she just used on him. As if this might be possible for them. Someday.

Kate is still talking; he can see her glorious lips moving. She's been so happy lately; happy with him, flirting, making him want things he's only ever admitted to wanting in the burning darkness of his bedroom. He thinks for a weird second that he just heard her tell him she's not a virgin, which is interesting, but he can't focus on anything she says as she stands in front of him right now while these words roll around and around his skull like a chanted mantra. _"Castle, if we were getting married..."_

Eventually, the slow burn in his heart builds, kindling that catches fire, and all he can think to say is, "Why aren't we?"

This pulls her up short. Her eyes widen and her jaw falls slack. From the look on her face, he's not sure whether Kate has no idea what he's talking about, or if maybe she does and she's appalled. She shakes her head slightly, as if she's clearing water from her ears, and her hair shimmers against her shoulders. The urge to reach out and touch her hits him hard, and he has to fight it with everything he has.

Kate's eyes are fixed on his, such beautiful eyes, and then she tilts her head slightly to the side and narrows her gaze. "Why aren't we what?" she asks warily.

Castle notices how her fingers twitch against her thigh as if she's holding herself back from reaching for something. So he clears his throat and takes the biggest, dumbest, bravest gamble of his entire life. "Why aren't we getting married, Kate?"

"Shit. I thought that's what you meant," she says in a hot rush of words. But instead of laughing or maybe slapping him, she's closing the door, and when she turns around she's smiling. Just faintly, but it's definitely there.

"Is this wedding fever?" she says sympathetically, regarding him with a look of amused tenderness. "Ryan and Jenny's big day making you all sentimental? Nostalgic? Because, Castle, you have quite the jacket in that department. Two priors, in fact. Don't think the DA's gonna let you plead out on the next one," she jokes, shaking her head with this gentle, smiling scold. "Nope. Three strikes mean you're in for some serious jail time," and she laughs.

"Next one's for keeps," he blurts recklessly, and they both freeze. There's no suave, no wooing, no elegant, slow burn now. His throat is dry, his voice rough as gravel, but it works, throwing her off balance if the dilated pupils and that faint blush creeping up her neck are any kind of a clue. She's stopped laughing, too.

Kate takes a step closer. He can feel the heat coming off her body and see her eyelashes beating out a flustered tattoo like she's trying to put out a fire that her eyes keep reigniting. "Are you⏤ Were you being serious just now?" She frowns, her voice a little panicky at the prospect of his answer because the man is nothing if not honest.

Castle licks his lips, juts out his chin, broadens his chest, and says, "Deadly." His heart is beating violently and his palms are sweating, but, man, he is proud of himself.

Kate gasps her next breath of air and says, "So this isn't a prank? To be clear?" He shakes his head. "And it isn't some… _oh, I'm over forty and I'm getting lonely and all my friends are_ ⏤" She stops mimicking him when she sees that he's still shaking his head, calmly. His mouth has formed a firm, straight line, and his eyes shimmer with a mix of sincerity, worry, and caution-to-the-wind optimism.

Now Kate looks nervous, her brows creased. She's worrying her lip between her teeth, and goddamn if that isn't just the sexiest thing. "Did you just propose to me?" she asks breathily, and the second the words are out of her mouth, Castle wonders what the hell took him so long. Not to have done so before now seems like utter insanity. Of course! It's as if someone just explained his mother's beauty regime or cryptocurrency, and suddenly all the songs make sense.

"Yes." He nods bravely, gathering strength. "Yes, I did." Dramatically, he drops to one knee, and Kate kind of squeaks. When he looks up at her, there are tears in her eyes. She presses her fingertips to her lips and holds her breath as he says, "Katherine Houghton Beck⏤"

Before he can finish, the break-room door flies open so hard that it hits the wall and rebounds with a shiver. Esposito bursts in and skids to a halt in front of them. "Yo, Castle! Beckett got you cleaning floors with your tongue now?" Espo cackles at his own wisecrack, but no one else is paying him any attention.

Castle stumbles to his feet. But by the time he's upright, Kate is gone. He closes his eyes, drops his head into his hands. This cannot be happening.

 _TBC..._


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you for the lovely, welcoming response to this story.

* * *

 _I'm alright with a slow burn_  
 _Taking my time, let the world turn_

 ** _\- Kacey Musgraves, "Slow Burn"_**

* * *

 **Slow Burn**

 _Chapter 2_

She hasn't gone far. He finds her out in the hallway, holding her hair back as she drinks from the water fountain. He watches how her throat bobs with every sip she swallows and, bizarrely, Castle finds himself swallowing along with her. At least she's not holding her hair back as she vomits in the ladies bathroom, he thinks. Or yelling. She could be yelling.

He approaches slowly, like a zookeeper with a wounded animal, increasing the weight of his footfalls and clearing his throat so that he doesn't startle her. "Beckett?" he says tentatively.

He just proposed to her in the break room. His blood is still buzzing with the hope and excitement he felt when there was a possibility that she might have surprised the hell out of him and said yes (insane, he knows), and now he's reverted to using her surname? Shit! What is wrong with him? What happened to the bravado he felt back there? The rightness of that moment when he dropped to one knee? Like something vampiric, does their relationship wither if it's exposed to too harsh a light?

Kate straightens up, swipes water droplets from her lips with the back of her hand, and whether she heard him walk down the hall or not, it's clear that she knows he's there. She slowly pivots on her high heels to face him, her expression unreadable. She crosses her arms. Her stance is strong and defensive. He fears he's blown everything, has to remind himself that in the past she'd have vanished by now or at least banished _him_ from her precinct. Crossed arms and a defensive posture count as progress with her.

When he drags his gaze up to her face, it isn't with any hope that she's going to respond to his proposal, so he steps over that mess as if it never happened. "What are we doing, Kate?" he asks quietly, sounding sad, almost scared and defeated already.

For once, she bypasses her knee-jerk range of stock responses, which would have included something obtuse like " _working a case," or "Go home, Castle. It's late,"_ to acknowledge the look on his face and the intense moment they just shared. "You don't mean work, do you?"

He shakes his head. "Our friends are getting married. Lanie and Espo are⏤"

"No longer together," she fills in for him.

"For now," Castle argues back, a desperate edge creeping into his voice that he knows shouldn't be there, but he just can't stop. "At least they tried… _try_."

She frowns, and he sees anger and a little spark of fear in her eyes. " _Try?_ You think a relationship is like a pair of shoes? Too bad if they don't fit after a while, you can always get another one? Is that what happened to your marriages, Castle?"

A look of hurt washes over his face the instant these words are out of her mouth, and it persists this time, deepening the creases either side of his mouth, robbing his eyes of their sparkle, of any hope or humor.

Kate closes her eyes and runs a hand through her hair, apologizing immediately. "God, look, I'm sorry. That was crass and hurtful. I didn't mean it. You're a good person, Castle. You just...you blindsided me in there," she says, gesturing weakly towards the break room.

Castle nods to acknowledge her apology and holds up his hands. "I should just keep my mouth shut," he says, beginning to massage his temples. "Ignore me." He starts to back away.

"Weddings do funny things to people. Don't sweat it," she calls after him, willing to play the whole thing off if he is, despite the lump in her throat and the tightness in her chest at the thought of letting it go.

But Castle shakes his head and comes back. "Actually, it's not that. You just… _you_ blindsided me, too, Kate. Before, when you said if _we_ were getting married." His eyebrows shoot up at the memory. "Wow!" he whispers reverently. "Those words…that whole idea…" It just keeps spilling out of him tonight.

He pauses to relive the moment he experienced in the break room a second time, such intense feelings, and Kate watches him, silenced by his candor, by his obvious love and enthusiasm for the concept of them as...husband and wife? These words sound strange and terrifying even inside her head, and she has to look away, to look at anything but his face and the adoration she can see in his eyes, the hope and delight inspired by this fantasy future. It's all too much.

"Kinda hit me in the gut," he admits. "I guess I let my imagination get the better of me. I'm sorry."

Her brow crinkles. Kate feels it and she hates that she's doing that: frowning when he's over there floating in a warm bath of happiness because of a few careless words she uttered just to make a point. But were they really so careless? Or has his bravery started to rub off on her? She certainly wasn't afraid when she said it, either of the idea itself or of sharing it with her partner. She felt playful, conspiratorial; as if she could confide anything in him and he wouldn't judge her for saying it. She trusts him, and it hits her like a lightning bolt just how much.

Tentatively, she finds herself asking, "Do you think about that? Have you thought about⏤" She chews the inside of her cheek. Their eyes are back on one another and it feels as if the hallway might just combust around them. She glances to his left, sees the fire extinguisher mounted on the wall and feels insanely relieved by its presence. God, she's doomed. He's making her as ridiculous as he is.

There's a weighty pause as if Castle's figuring things out before he says, "What if⏤" He holds up a hand in that "hear me out" gesture she's so familiar with from years of his ridiculous theory building. "Okay, let's start simpler. Why aren't you my plus one, Kate? Why aren't we each other's plus one? For the wedding," he adds needlessly.

Simpler than "marry me" but not by much; her heart is thrashing violently.

"Because you're taking Alexis," she fires back, trying to keep the jealous edge out of her voice and pretty much failing. It's his daughter for God's sake, she reminds herself, not some bimbo.

"Only because I bribed her into coming with me," he confesses. "She asked why I wasn't taking you."

Kate's cheeks flood with color at the thought of that conversation. "Oh." She winces, then purses her lips and releases a breath through her nose. Her chest deflates. This discussion is difficult, painfully honest, long overdue, and they should not be having it here.

"Yeah. And when I admitted that I hadn't asked you because I knew you'd turn me down, she took pity on me." There's silence while Castle rubs the back of his neck in discomfort before admitting, "Then she demanded my credit card to go buy herself a new dress."

He chuckles in that self-deprecating way he has when he's poking fun at himself to cover a hurt. Kate hates to see him do that because she knows that he deserves so much more from everyone around him - his mother, his daughter, the boys... _her._ He deserves her respect, her gratitude, her loyalty, her love, and admiration. Actually, it's more than deserved because he earned it the hard way: by putting himself last so often that it's become the default position in their relationship. His needs, his wants, and desires, she's pretty sure they match hers by now, but because _she's_ not ready, he's forced to mark time in some vague-ass no man's land called Someday.

So she takes a deep breath and goes on the offensive for both their sakes. "How'd you know I'd turn you down? Seems pretty presumptuous," she says, stroking her thumb over the gold shield on her hip to garner courage.

Castle sighs in defeat. "Because I know you, Beckett. We're…friends, I guess. But there are clear boundaries with you. Asking you to be my date to a wedding, Kevin and Jenny's wedding? Come on. Crosses too many lines."

Castle's comments, though true at least in the past, sting. Kate thought they were making excellent progress, she thought he could read her better than that; she sees him as a lot more than just a friend. But then he's not a mindreader, at least not all of the time. And now he's worried about crossing some invisible lines when he found it in himself to propose? It's all so confusing; she has to be the brave one now.

"How would you know if you never asked me?" she demands, facing up to him.

Castle laughs this time, but it sounds flat and forced. "Are you saying you'd have said yes?" He clearly thinks that's an outlandish idea, he's not even hanging on for her answer.

She flips her hair over her shoulder and turns to head back to her desk. "Ask me next time. You never know," she throws back at him.

They both respond to a challenge and she knows that; Castle stands his ground. "What about this time? What if I ask you now?"

Kate raises an eyebrow. "Alexis? A new dress?"

Castle makes a pfff sound and a dismissive gesture. "She's humoring me. She'd jump at the chance to ditch me for this boy she just met."

Kate ambles back towards him, and she's got a sly smile on her lips. "I don't know, Castle. I don't want to come between you and—"

He misses the smile because he's nodding already in anticipation of her rejection. "Say no more. No, I get it. Not a problem." He quickly backs off.

"Check with Alexis," she says as he turns to walk away. "If she's okay with it…" Kate shrugs.

He comes back, his curious expression already turning into a smile. "You'll go with me? Like an actual date?"

Kate's smiling, too, almost laughing at him. His enthusiasm is comical and infectious. She nods. "An actual date," she says softly, her eyes shining. "But get permission first."

Castle laughs in surprise. "We're asking my teenage daughter for permission to go to a wedding as a couple?"

Kate feels her cheeks heat up again. "A couple?"

"Well, no. I just meant…"

She curls her nails into her palms and clenches slightly, needing the pain to fortify her. "Castle, I know what you meant, and it's fine."

He peers at her. "So you're okay with me calling us a couple? For real?"

She hesitates over how to say this. "I—"

He holds up his hands again and starts shaking his head. "Your wall. No. I get it. I'm pushing."

She emits a surprise burst of laughter and slaps her thigh. "Five minutes ago you _proposed!_ " She shakes her head, eyes raised to the ceiling, but she's smiling again. "You proposed to me, Castle! And now you're worried about pushing?" There's a whine in her voice that he's never heard before, it's needy and gorgeous because it's all for him. "Why did you have to propose to me, Rick?" she whines again, some desperate longing on her face like he's put the idea into her head and now she can't get rid of it. Better still, she doesn't even want to.

She growls in frustration, battling sudden tears, her hand pressed against her wildly-beating heart. "Oh, God! We shouldn't even be talking about this here," she hisses as a fresh-faced uniform hurries past the scene of their little melodrama.

Amongst a lot of other things, Castle is struck by her use of his first name; such a rarity. The mixed signals they're trading ping back and forth, thick and fast. "I know. I'm sorry. This is your workplace and⏤"

"Castle, stop agreeing with me!"

He flinches when she snaps at him, and then he looks confused. "I thought that's what you wanted. All these years, I thought you were working to break me in, to get me to agree with you about...stuff."

Kate looks horrified at the prospect. "I don't want a yes man. That's not who you are in this relationship."

She said the R-word, and he's trying so hard not to break into an insane grin or start dancing right in front of her. So he focuses with all his might to ask, "So what am I here for, Kate?"

She does a wild double take as if he's just done something even crazier than ask her to marry him right out of the starting blocks. "You're...you're my _partner_. Your job is to push me...out of my comfort zone. Particularly when you can see that...that it would be good for me." She eyes him suspiciously. "What? Stop grinning at me like that," she says, starting to laugh herself.

Castle takes a step closer. If he tented his fingers right now they'd brush her sternum. "Like what?" he asks sexily.

"Like that. Like I just said yes to your crazy, crazy question back there."

"I thought we were ignoring that, Beckett?" he says cleverly, making her blush. "But you keep bringing it up. Like maybe you want me to ask you again." He cocks an eyebrow and smirks.

" _Castle,_ " she says in admonishment, but he can see that her cheeks are still flushed with heat and her chest is rising and falling faster than usual. Not that he's staring at her chest.

"Yeah, sorry. Your workplace," he says trying to ease her discomfort. He's pushed far enough for one evening.

Kate turns away and then she spins back immediately. "You're not the only one with dreams, you know," she says fiercely.

Castle can only stare at her, slack-jawed shock written all over his face.

"Check with Alexis," she reminds him before disappearing.

 _TBC..._


	3. Chapter 3

_Now I remember what it feels like to fly._

 _You give me butterflies._

 ** _\- Kacey Musgraves, "Butterflies"_**

* * *

 _ **Slow Burn**_

Chapter 3

He doesn't go after her this time.

He uses the bathroom at the precinct, splashing cold water on his face to clear his head before he returns to her desk to find her gone.

He isn't surprised.

Esposito is still sitting in front of his computer, working, or at least pretending to. He raises his head as Castle silently wriggles into his coat and nods at him. "Sorry about earlier, man. Feels like maybe I interrupted something important back there?"

Castle shakes his head. "No. Nothing important." His voice is tightly controlled, terse, and he doesn't embellish for once. If he tries to explain, he thinks the detective will laugh at him, and he doesn't think Beckett would be too thrilled in any case.

Esposito narrows his eyes. "She's worth fighting for, you know. If ever anyone was, it's her. Don't give up."

Castle is pleasantly surprised by this encouragement; Esposito, in particular, has always been protective of Beckett and disapproving of him when it came to her. He gives the detective a friendly nod of thanks, stuffs his hands into his pockets and leaves.

His mother is home when he gets back to the loft. She's running scales on his grand piano and warbling vocal warm-up exercises that would get anyone else locked up in a psych ward. The flood of adrenaline and hope he felt when he dropped to one knee in front of Kate is draining away. Now he just wants to hide away in peace with his thoughts for company. So having his mother around is the last thing he needs.

He texted Alexis on the way home to tell her that he needed to talk to her about something. He doesn't think she'll mind not going to the wedding with him, but he wants to do her the courtesy of looking her in the eye when he asks if she's happy to stand aside for Kate. The reply she sent tells him that his daughter is out for the night with friends after which she'll be staying over at Paige's. Fixing things so that he and Kate can go to Kevin and Jenny's wedding together suddenly faces a frustrating delay.

The last of the certainty and euphoria Castle experienced at the precinct finally deserts him. Between his mother's caterwauling and his daughter's absence, he feels like a deflated balloon. He heads to the liquor cabinet to pour himself a drink, then slinks off to his office to nurse an increasingly confused tangle of thoughts.

His butt has no sooner hit the leather sofa before his mother appears in the doorway, borne forth on a shimmering wave of marine blue and turquoise silk.

"Hello, darling," Martha trills joyfully, lounging against the bookcase with a glass of white wine dangling elegantly from her fingertips. When she takes a closer look at him, she asks, "So what's new, Pussycat?"

Castle really doesn't want his mother getting into his business. He _really_ doesn't. But before he can come up with something newsworthy and distracting to throw her off the scent, she sashays into the room, drops down into his office chair, kicks off her bedazzled mules, and says, "And Richard, don't even bother inventing some elaborate excuse. I know something happened with Katherine today, so just spit it out."

His jaw drops open and he gapes like a fish out of water.

* * *

Kate's heart is still racing as she exits the elevator and heads out into the street with her cell phone pressed to her ear. "Ugh! Voicemail!" she growls as she hails a cab.

"Hey, I just got your message. Come in," Lanie says when Kate pops her head around the morgue door fifteen minutes later. "I was just finishing up with that guy when you called." She indicates a gurney laden with lumpy shape inside a white plastic body bag. "What's up?"

"Castle proposed!" Kate blurts without any preamble when she's still only halfway across the room. She seems to surprise even herself because she emits a nervous giggle, too.

Lanie's eyes bug out and she shoots up out of her chair sending it flying back into a wall. "The man did _what now?_ " she yells.

Kate doesn't repeat what she just said; once is enough for everyone. She just nods while Lanie screams loud enough to wake her refrigerated clients.

Eventually, the M.E. stops squealing and bouncing up and down. "Oh. My. God. _OhMyGod!_ " she says in an excited rush of words. "Rick Castle proposed to you? Tell me. Tell me _everything._ Wait! Did he kiss you? Did he hold your hand?" When Kate shakes her head, Lanie says, "Okay. But that is you pair to a tee: everything ass-backward. Girl, you'll be giving birth to twins before that man gets you down the aisle."

Kate is still laughing when they both calm down enough to take a seat. "It came out of the blue. Totally. I'm sure even _he_ didn't know what he was doing. We were talking about Jenny and Ryan, and I made some crack about what if we were getting married, would you want to know about all the guys I'd slept with. He didn't even answer my question. He just straight out asked me 'why aren't we getting married, Kate?' as if it was the most natural question in the world."

"Sweet Jesus on a tricycle," Lanie mutters. "And I always thought he'd hire a skywriter or a hot air balloon."

Kate leans forward to peer at her friend. "You thought he'd do _what?"_

But Lanie just waves this question aside to ask, "So what did you say?"

"Well, I checked that he was being serious for one thing. This whole Ryan-Jenny extravaganza has everyone a little crazy. I thought maybe he was coming down with wedding fever. He has been married twice already."

Lanie laughs. "Kate, come on. The guy's been head over heels in love with you since about five minutes after y'all met. Of course, he was being serious."

Kate's face is a picture: her cheeks are an attractive shade of pink and her eyes are sparkling when she presses her fingers to her lips. "He got down on one knee," she confesses, causing Lanie to emit another ear-piercing scream that dogs halfway down the block could hear.

"Oh, my." Lanie clutches her hands to her chest. "So romantic," she whispers, and there are tears in her eyes. "So, you said yes, obviously?" she says, nodding and smiling at the same time.

Kate shakes her head and the happy look dissolves off her friend's face. "Javi burst in. Kind of ruined Castle's big moment."

"I will tan that man's behind when I see him," Lanie declares. "What is _wrong_ with those boys?"

"Don't blame it all on Javi. We needed to talk and the break room at the Twelfth was the wrong place to do it. But it has been a long time coming."

"So how'd you leave it? And please explain to me why you're sitting here with me instead of rolling around in Castle's bed with a bottle of Champagne on ice?"

Kate covers her face with her hands. When she finally removes them, she says, "We pulled things back a little…well, a lot. He didn't ask me to be his plus one to the wedding because he assumed I'd say no. If Alexis is okay with it, we're going to start with that. A date. Well…go as a couple." Kate's cheeks feel hot by the time she's explained all of this to Lanie because it sounds incredibly high school when she says it out loud.

"And how'd you feel about that?" Lanie asks. She watches Kate's face carefully to assess her friend's response.

"I'm cool with it if he is," she says, trying to sound breezy. But Kate doesn't really feel cool. She's worried they'll backslide and lose all the forward momentum Castle generated for them today.

"And is he? Cool with it?" Lanie asks. "Because a date is a major step down from waiting for you at the altar."

Kate shrugs. "You know Castle. He's king of the grand gesture, as you said." She leans over all of a sudden to rest her elbows on her knees. Momentarily winded by everything, she mutters with wonder, "Oh, my God. Rick just proposed to me," as it hits her all over again.

Lanie laughs, and it is such a happy sound that Kate looks up. "I'd say that if you wanted, and it does sound like you want it, that offer is probably still on the table, Kate Beckett. But don't hang around too long. Castle might just get cold feet."

* * *

Castle bolts upright to stare at Martha, sloshing Scotch onto his pants in the process. "What? _How?_ How can you _possibly_ know anything about me and Kate?" He stares down at the cell phone in his hand as if it is alive. "Mother, are you _bugging_ my phone?"

Martha grins like the Cheshire Cat and taps the side of her nose. "Mother's intuition," she says calmly before taking another sip of wine. "But I'm right, aren't I?"

"You cannot possibly know anything out of intuition," Castle declares. "I'm open to most things, but I cannot countenance that," he says with a shiver when his brain runs over all the other scenarios his mother might employ her intuition if such a thing existed, though he quickly decides that it doesn't.

Martha wafts her glass in the air. "Forget intuition. There is definitely something, so cough up. Or do I have to call that darling girl myself?"

Castle both knows when he's defeated and does not want his mother calling Kate. He's also desperate to talk to someone, so he takes a deep breath and blurts, "I proposed to Kate today."

For once, Castle is glad that his mother invaded the sanctity of his office and commandeered his desk chair because she looks like she might collapse in a dead faint like the drama queen she is.

After the shock fades, Martha's face blooms into a smile of delight and she claps her hands. "Oh, dear boy. Please tell me she said yes?"

At this point, Castle deflates against the sofa cushions, feeling once more like that empty balloon. "Not exactly, no," he says darkly, scrubbing his hands over his face. His heart is beating faster at the memory of his own recklessness, and not in a good way. He feels an impending sense of panic and doom. Kate Beckett is not the kind of woman you spring a proposal on; he knows that. What was he thinking? This self-flagellating clamor of negative thoughts crowds out every positive memory: of her smile, her giddiness, her whine when she asked why he'd proposed. All of these good omens have vanished into his growing sinkhole of despair.

"If not a yes then at least a maybe?" Martha asks hopefully, but Castle shakes his head and then changes his mind, beginning to nod unconvincingly. "Well, which is it? Yes, no, or maybe?" his mother presses.

Castle shrugs to illustrate his own confusion. "Not a no, but then not a yes, either. We agreed to go to Ryan's wedding. As a couple. But first I need to ask Alexis if she'll stand aside. Only she's out with Paige until tomorrow." He looks forlornly at his phone. "God, this is torture!" he exclaims, tossing the phone down the sofa and flopping back dramatically.

Martha makes a dismissive gesture. "Alexis won't mind. Richard, the girl is humoring you. There are so many things a young woman her age would rather be doing than going to a wedding with her father, believe me." At the last second, Martha adds, "No offense, darling, but that's the truth."

"None taken," Castle says, not sure whether to be offended or not. "But what do I do about Kate in the meantime? She'll think I've gone off the whole idea if she doesn't hear from me soon. Or she'll think Alexis said no. Oh, God," he groans. "I don't know which is worse."

Martha shakes her head. "Darling, you should never have given up on those acting lessons. You still have real potential. But right now you need to dial down the dramatics and start thinking straight."

"Mother, this isn't an act. I need to tell her something. I don't want to leave her hanging the same day I got down on one knee and proposed marriage. Oh, God. I proposed to Kate Beckett," he says, looking like he might throw up from the stress of it all. "Did I just totally blow my cool? Have I got no game left?"

Martha comes to sit down beside him. She puts her hand on his back to rub soothing circles between his shoulder blades, so unlike her, and she smiles. "My sweet boy. Katherine doesn't want cool from you. She never did. And no woman wants a man who plays games. Besides, if she wanted cool she'd have stuck with that...that handsome cardiac surgeon."

Castle turns to stare at his mother, his mouth hanging open. "Not helping, mother," he gasps.

"Sorry. I'm sorry. My point is this: Kate needs love in her life. She's faced so much personal tragedy and in her job, oh my, and all largely alone. You bring that love and that light to her life, Richard." When Castle looks at his mother with genuine surprise, she nods and takes his hand. "Dear boy, you do. You bring love and laughter and light wherever you go, to all our lives. Forget writing, darling, _that_ is your true gift."

She beams at him, nodding sagely, and again, Castle doesn't know whether to be touched or offended.

"So go to her," Martha says with dramatic intensity. "Let her see how sincere you are. You made a bold, brave move today, Richard, and Kate didn't run away. Don't let that momentum go to waste."

* * *

When Kate gets home, she's too restless to stay indoors. Her apartment feels too small to contain her, as if the walls are closing in to crush her spirit, to crush her sudden, reckless hope. Lanie's advice is still ringing in her ears. No way is she missing this moment, and she's fed up checking her phone every few seconds to see if Castle has texted about the wedding: Ryan's or their own, her giddy brain suggests. But she'd be happy to hear from him about anything really, any crazy theory or even the weather just to maintain their connection. This tells her a hell of a lot, which is new and, of course, not.

So she changes out of her work suit and heels into a white t-shirt and a soft, faded pair of skinny jeans, then she grabs her leather jacket, phone, keys, and wallet and heads up the block to the local parking garage. The garage where she keeps her Harley.

With every step her excitement builds. Though it's not exactly a pleasant experience; her heart is in her throat and it's beating far too hard, but she's carried forward by this new-found certainty that she knows what she wants because Castle showed her what is possible. One reckless question she'd have shot him down for a year ago now acts like a light in the darkness, a bright beacon showing her the way.

She nods to Danny, the parking attendant, discovering that she has to quash a crazy smile to do so. Her bike is stored in a dark corner on the first level, covered in a fitted tarp which bears a layer of city grime made up of diesel exhaust particles mixed with minute pieces of rubber tire and the occasional pigeon dropping. But once the cover is off, the bike looks shiny and spectacular underneath. She backs the bike out and throws her leg over the chrome frame. When she fires up the engine, it catches first time. The Harley Softail throbs beneath her, setting her skin on fire, and her blood begins to sing. Now she really can't stop smiling.

Out on the road with her visor down, she soon begins to feel confined again. She longs to tear the helmet off, to toss it to the side of the road and watch it bounce and roll in her wing mirror as the wind whips through her hair and makes her eyes stream. Time was she'd have done this very thing when she cared less about her safety and saw little future for herself. Today, she checks over her shoulder with care before changing lanes as she roars down the Westside Highway, SoHo-bound.

* * *

Castle's face is washed, his hair brushed, teeth cleaned and sluiced to minty-fresh perfection that eliminates every last trace of his pity Scotch. He has changed into a smart pair of charcoal slacks and a powder-blue cashmere v-neck that he really hopes Kate will like. He's so nervous it's possible he could be sick, but he's holding it together as best he can.

Martha flutters around him in the living room as he gets his bits and pieces together. He's too keyed up to wait for the car service, so he plans to hit Crosby Street and hail a cab on the corner, or maybe run a block over to Broadway just to burn off some nervous energy.

"Darling, you look divine. What woman could resist?" his mother says, leaning in for a powdery good-luck kiss. "And you smell even better, Richard. Katherine will just eat you up," she adds, horrifying him when she pinches his cheeks as if he's still a three-year-old child.

The thought of Katherine Beckett eating him up has the blood draining from his brain to other areas of his body. So he bids his mother a hasty goodnight before he chickens out or loses the power of cognitive thought.

"Go! Break a leg!" his mother says as Castle opens the front door.

"I won't wait up, darling!" Martha yells as an afterthought with so much innuendo in her tone that Castle's sure half the building must know his business by now.

This parting remark distracts him so badly that he turns his head away for a second, plowing straight into the arms of Kate Beckett in the process.

 _TBC..._


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Thank you for sharing how much you're enjoying this story. You might recognize a couple of lines woven into this chapter. ;)_

* * *

 ** _Slow Burn_**

 _Chapter 4_

"Whoa there, cowboy!"

Kate holds out her hands, catching Castle in the nick of time. He's moving so fast that it takes all her strength to avert a painful collision and keep them both standing upright.

His momentum just keeps throwing them together today.

The shocked look on Castle's face and the lengths he goes to avoid touching her are the twin thoughts that register in Kate's brain. His body feels rigid under her hands, the power in his muscles equally arousing and concerning. Instead of pleased to see her, he seems to be in full fight or flight mode.

"Hey," she says softly, smiling at him. "You okay?" She tilts her head to one side waiting for an answer. When she flexes her fingers at his elbows, he jumps.

Mutely, Castle continues to stare at her. Though she couldn't say when or how she started touching him here, she rubs her hands lightly over his ribs to bring him around. Maybe she was drawn to the baby-soft cashmere of his sweater, which is currently caressing the underside of her fingertips, who knows? She likes the feel of him: soft and powerful at the same time; no further explanation required.

"Castle?" she says quietly. "What's going on? Were you…" she frowns and shakes her head slightly, "…heading out somewhere? I heard your mother say she wasn't going to wait up."

This does it. As she repeats Martha's parting shot, the potential twin meaning behind these words dawns on both of them. Is he going out to spend the night? She thinks he's going out to spend the night? His mother's a meddler, unconscious and not. This could go either way.

"Oh." Kate drops her hands to her sides in disappointment and bends to retrieve her helmet from the floor. "So stupid. I should have called," she mutters to herself, rolling her eyes.

Stirred by the creak of her leather jacket and the sight of the black bike helmet dangling from her fingers, Castle finally speaks up. "I was coming to see you. And you were obviously…"

"Coming to see you," Kate says, smiling with relief.

Castle lowers his gaze from her lips to her hands. "Did you come here on your Harley?" he asks with awed excitement. "To see me?"

Kate nods, raising the helmet to stomach level so that it sits between them; a pregnant pause.

Martha's cultured, dramatic voice pierces the warmth of the moment they'd quietly been sharing. "Okay, I think we've thoroughly established that you both needed to see one another. Now, how about you invite darling Katherine inside, Richard? I know we live on the penthouse floor, but nothing good ever came of standing out in the hall. The feng shui is all wrong for one thing."

Kate's face is a picture: an attractive blend of embarrassment, amusement, and a sympathetic smile that says she feels bad for him. Again.

"Mother!" Castle groans in exasperation, covering his eyes. "We don't need your help. Thank you very much."

"Oh, darling, I think all the evidence says that maybe you do. Katherine? Yoo-hoo!" Martha calls out from the living room. Castle silently shakes his head, urging Kate not to engage with his mother.

"Hi, Martha," Kate replies, poking her head through the open door to give her a wave.

"Dammit, but you're too polite," Castle hisses at Kate and she shrugs in return, whispering, "I can't just ignore her." Castle nods theatrically. "Oh, yes, you can."

When he feels Kate's hand close around his wrist, he looks down to confirm that she's really touching him. When he up at her face, she's staring into his eyes. She purses her lips, hesitating on a thought before speaking. "Want to get out of here? Go somewhere we can talk? Alone. Without an…audience?" she says, pointedly cutting her eyes to the open door.

Castle is nodding vigorously before she's even finished speaking. "Please? Oh, God, yes, please. I would like that very much."

Kate laughs at his vehemence. She strokes the silky underside of his wrist beneath the cuff of his sweater with her thumb, soothing and arousing him at the same time. "Were you planning on going out like that?" she asks, giving him a slow perusal from head to toe that has his heart missing a beat or two. She doesn't even try to hide the fact that she's checking him out, not like she does at the precinct sometimes when she thinks he isn't paying attention and he catches her staring.

He pats his sweater and his legs, looking down at his clothes in frantic alarm as if he's forgotten something crucial, like pants. "Is this not okay? Should I change? Are these slacks too smart? You don't like the powder blue?" he asks in a panicked rush of self-criticism because she's wearing sexy, skin-tight denim and black leather, the ultimate in badass cool, and he is…well-dressed and expensive. He hopes he doesn't look like some rich sugar daddy.

But Kate just laughs again, amused by how much he's freaking out on her right now when he was braver and more reckless than either of them has ever been just a couple of hours ago. She grips his forearm and leans closer. "Castle, I _love_ the sweater…on or off," she whispers, allowing her eyebrows to rise, adding extra meaning. "The color _really_ suits you." She winks and his throat bobs. "I just meant that you might want a jacket. It gets pretty cold on the back of the bike. Even in summer."

She catches him swallowing again. "On the b…bike?" he stammers. But she is completely unfazed, watching him coolly. "You want me to get on the back of your Harley?"

Before Kate can answer, Martha calls out, "Darling, with your back problems, do you think that's really such a good idea?"

Kate pulls him to her and hisses, "Rick, go get your leather jacket. Now! We are getting _out_ of here." Then she turns him around and gives him a shove towards his own front door.

She walks away to wait for him by the elevator after calling out an unequivocal farewell to his mother. They need to do this by themselves, without an audience, and certainly without his mother's "helpful" commentary.

Seconds later, Castle comes jogging out through the front door carrying his leather jacket. He's out of breath and the look on his face is alarmed at first until Kate calls out, "Over here!" and it relaxes into a grin.

"Thought you'd taken off on me for a second," he admits with disarming honesty. "And I wouldn't blame you if you had," he adds, jerking his head in his mother's direction.

Kate bumps his shoulder as they wait for the elevator to arrive. "Hey! Partners," she says, feeling a pang deep in her chest when she sees what that single word can do to him, to both of them really. "I just had to get away from..."

"My mother, yeah." Castle runs a hand through his hair, disturbing its perfect layers. "And don't even think about apologizing," he tells her when she opens her mouth to do just that. "I love her dearly, but tonight she is well out of order."

"I'm sure she just wants the best for you…for us," she amends, because there can be no pretending that his mother isn't fully aware of what went down at the precinct today. "But…I think we need to sort things out for ourselves, don't you?"

When Castle nods, she can have no idea the swell of gratitude welling inside him to hear that she cares enough to rescue him from his mother's browbeating interference. Most women he's been with have sided with his mother against him, but Kate takes his hand when the elevator doors open and draws him inside along with her. He's so giddy on the brief decent that it feels as if they're falling to earth, only to land on a feather bed made out of love. He doesn't mind admitting, after the wild events today, that he might just be losing his mind. It feels great.

The Harley Softail is parked by the curb, and Castle's doorman, Eduardo is out front keeping an eye on it. Or really coveting the motorcycle would be a more accurate description since he's stroking the leather seat and admiring his reflection in the chrome headlamps. He salutes Kate after he hands her the spare helmet she left in his care, then he makes himself scarce.

When Kate turns to give Castle the second helmet, she finds him standing in the middle of the sidewalk just staring at her bike. He's holding his leather jacket to his stomach, but he's made no move to put it on.

"Hey, you okay?" she asks him for the second time tonight. She follows his gaze to the bike. "You happy to ride with me? I mean you don't have some pathological hatred of motorcycles, do you?"

Castle shakes his head and shrugs into his jacket. "No, it's not that," he says with a more deflated tone than she expected when she decided to ride over here tonight and bring a spare helmet just in case.

Kate takes a step closer. "Castle, talk to me. What's wrong?"

He drops his head for a second, almost shameful, then he takes a breath and looks up at her. "It's just I can't help wondering…how many guys have been here before?" he admits with sad eyes trained on the back of the Harley-Davidson.

Kate nods slowly, surprised but letting his confession sink in. Coming from Richard Castle, it's a rare display of a lack of confidence and that makes it kind of sweet. "Right." She stands straighter and looks him in the eye. "Well, I'm not going to deny that I've had other guys on the back of my bike before. But, Castle…none of them were you."

Her smile breaks the tension, and when she holds out her hand to him they both laugh and he comes to her freely. She tugs the front of his jacket around him and pats his chest. "Come on. Zip up. The West Side Highway's calling our names."

Kate throws her leg over the bike and eases it off the kickstand. She hits the start button and the engine roars to life. When she squeezes the throttle a couple of times, Castle feels the wall of noise hit his chest and he wants to howl at the night sky, but he pulls on the helmet, instead. It's a tight squeeze. He swears he doesn't have an abnormally large head as his mother has always complained - "why do you think I had an elective cesarean in the 70's Richard, back when the word 'elective' had most people asking about voter registration?" – and it'll probably ruin his hair, but tonight he doesn't care.

Once he's settled behind her, Castle doesn't know where to put his hands, so he rests them on his thighs. Kate's helmet is still hanging on the handlebar and she turns to speak to him. "In case you haven't done this before, just lean when I lean and hold on tight. Okay?"

From what she can see of his eyes with the visor up, Castle looks nervous, but he nods. She smiles again to try to get him to relax and squeezes his quad, which is rock hard beneath her fingers. "Trust me, okay?"

"Always," he says thickly, suddenly overcome with some deep emotion that surfaced the second he opened his front door to find her out in the hallway tonight. His mother was right for once: she didn't run, or if she did it was straight back towards him.

"Hey, I said hold on tight," she reminds him when his hands remain glued to the front of his thighs.

"Right. Like…like this?" he says, tentatively placing his hands on her waist.

"If we were total strangers, yeah," Kate snorts. She takes his hands and wraps them around her middle so that he's hugging her. "When we really get started, might be better like this so that we're one: you, me and the bike."

So that we're one. Wow!

"You…you want me to hold you that tight?" he checks. "You're okay with that?"

She turns to look at him, her boots firmly planted on the asphalt, holding them up. "Rick, in case you've forgotten, you proposed to me today. I think it's safe to say you can put your arms around me and I won't freak out. Now, give me some room while I put on my helmet."

He watches in awe as she tips her head back, shakes out her hair so that the ends tumble over her shoulders and brush the front of his jacket before she tugs her helmet over the cascade of dancing curls. The bike throbs beneath them and Castle finds the vibration unquestionably erotic, especially with Kate Beckett astride the chrome beast with him, her thighs spread either side and her bravest self on display.

She makes a thumbs-up sign and Castle drops his hands to her waist. "You ready?" she yells above the din.

"Ready," he yells back, fighting to keep the grin off his face.

Soho's broken roadways have him gripping Kate tightly without having to be told. Between the potholes and the sections of original cobblestone surfacing now and again from beneath the melted blacktop like archeological remains, Castle worries that he might be crushing her. But he worries more that he might fall off, and besides, it's not every day he gets an open invitation to wrap his arms around Kate Beckett and hold her tight.

The good news is that he doesn't hear Kate complaining, and by the time they reach West Street, he's relaxed and starting to enjoy himself.

The West Side Highway runs parallel to the Hudson River from the southern tip of Manhattan to West 72nd Street. They join at West Houston onto the three-lane stretch that heads north. They catch glimpses across the river now and again between buildings and gaps in fences. Lights twinkle over in Hoboken, New Jersey, and Castle watches an airplane pass overhead on final approach to Newark Liberty. Everywhere he looks, the night is beautiful, the sky dark as velvet, and his head bursts with poetry.

Traffic is mercifully sparse, and they hit a run of green lights so that the only time they're forced to slow down is beside the Javits Center at West 34th Street after a fast, straight ride over thirty exhilarating blocks.

Castle is disappointed to have to lower his feet to the ground at the red stop signal. He had his chin resting on Kate's shoulder until then, his arms tight around her middle. He could swear he felt her heart pounding even through several layers of leather with her perfume tickling his nose. She feels so perfect in his arms: slight and yet powerful with his chest pressed against her back. He's never loved her so much; his heart is fit to explode and now he doesn't want to let her go.

He whoops aloud with the rush of it all when the bike finally stops, and Kate turns her head towards him. He can hear her laughter bubbling from beneath the tinted visor and he feels her body shake with it.

"How much further do you want to go?" she yells over the noise of the engine, dropping her hand to his thigh.

"I'd do this all night if I could. How about Canada?" he says, clearly not thinking straight, and Kate laughs again and squeezes his leg.

If she moves her hand any higher, he might just pass out.

"Okay, but how about we stop for coffee or something?" she suggests. "Somewhere we can talk."

His chest tightens and his mouth goes dry when she mentions of the "T-word." Castle knows they need to talk. Damn, he started this with his ill-judged, poorly-timed proposal. Was it really just today he dropped to one knee in front of her? But now you're here, Rick, he reminds himself. She's never asked him to take a ride with her before, and now you're here. So maybe talking will be a good thing. Maybe she's not doing all this just to let him down gently. Maybe getting to hold her tight on the back of her Harley isn't a consolation prize; maybe it's progress.

Whatever, it's time to tap into his brave, reckless streak again and find out.

"Pull over wherever you can," he says confidently, giving her a thumbs-up sign of his own. "You're right. We should talk."

 _TBC..._


	5. Chapter 5

**_Slow Burn_**

 _Chapter 5_

While she waits for the lights to change, Kate thinks about where they might go, somewhere quiet they can talk. Her focus is trained straight ahead when she feels Castle shift his grip around her, tightening his arms if anything despite the fact that they are at a standstill, their feet firmly planted on the roadway. She hesitates for a second before leaning into his embrace, holding back the sigh that wants to escape her lips when she feels him do the same, her heart almost overwhelmed by how close she feels to him tonight.

Finally, Kate nods to herself; she knows the perfect place.

She drops a hand to Castle's thigh almost just because she wants to. Who is she kidding? She loves the feel of him, firm muscles tensing beneath her palm and fingers. She wants to kick herself for holding back all these months. Why was she depriving herself of this? Depriving her partner, too? It's not like Castle would have objected to her getting a little handsy, quite the opposite; he's always touching things. She told him to hold on tight tonight and he's taken her at her word: molding them into one on the back of her motorcycle every chance he gets.

Not for the first time she wonders if all the hard work she's put in by herself and with Dr. Burke meant that she healed herself some time ago. Maybe she destroyed her wall and simply didn't notice because the present became simply too comfortable - a safe place with her partner already by her side - for her to forge on and make the material changes they needed to move on with their lives.

When she's trying to fall asleep at night, and she thinks about how far they still have to go to get to where she wants them to be, she has a gnawing suspicion that she is simply afraid. But of this? With him? Right at this moment, she couldn't begin to explain why.

She squeezes Castle's leg and he flips up his visor. "I know a place we can go," she says. "I'm going to turn around, head back downtown. That okay?"

"As long as my mother is nowhere in the vicinity, I'm good. But then I'd follow you anywhere, Beckett. You know that." He grins at her to soften the impact of this weighty statement, which they both know to be true, before dropping his visor back in place.

She pats his knee and gestures for him to hold on. When the lights turn green, she makes a tight left turn to take them back the way they came. The Hudson is now on their right, closer than before, a dark ribbon edged with glittering gems of colored light that spark and disappear into the night. Before long they're zipping past Chelsea Piers with its bowling alleys, driving range and ice-skating rink.

Castle taps Kate's shoulder and points to the entertainment complex, yelling, "We need to go there someday," at the top of his voice until he sees her nod.

They haven't even talked and already he's making plans for the future. Kate marvels at what an optimistic human being her partner is; he brings light to her dark and damaged heart.

Up ahead in the distance, the towering mirrored monolith of One World Trade Center rises ever closer. Lights illuminate every floor of its slender form, culminating in a sharp point that glows like a diamond-tipped needle.

Eventually, their destination comes into view, and Kate indicates to Castle that she's turning off the road. As they approach the junction with North Moore she slows, signals right, then runs up the ramp at the crosswalk and straight over the sidewalk, drawing the bike to a stop as soon as she can, which happens to be right alongside an NYPD barrier.

As Castle dismounts, he finds his legs are a little stiff and shaky. He covers this up by scolding Kate. "Pretty sure you just broke a few traffic laws with that maneuver, Detective Beckett."

She turns off the engine, lowers the bike onto the kickstand, and pulls her helmet off. "Sorry, did I just hear you complaining about law-breaking, Mr. Castle?"

Castle watches as she shakes her hair out, how it tumbles down her back and shimmers against the dull sheen of her leather jacket; he's never wanted to touch her so badly.

"Castle?"

He jumps when he hears his name. She's grinning at him as if she can see inside his brain and read his love-addled mind.

"Sorry." He shakes his head. "You were saying?"

She tucks her keys into her pocket and holds out her hand. "Never mind. You comin', Castle?"

There's a concession stand at the skate park on Pier 25 where they get a cup of coffee. Though it's late, a few boisterous kids are still using the equipment on the playground, and along the Hudson River Greenway, cyclists, dog walkers, and joggers still swarm.

Kate adds a splash of half and half to her coffee and stirs it in. "Shall we take a walk?" she asks, indicating the quieter end of the pier.

Castle's voice is low and husky with emotion when he says, "Sure. Let's do that." When she looks at his face, Kate recognizes the strain in his eyes; her partner looks as nervous as she feels.

As they walk, Kate unzips her jacket to let the fresh air cool her neck, but although she's warm she misses having Castle wrapped around her as close as he was on the back of her bike, and she wishes she'd thought to do this with him sooner.

She drifts nearer to him as she says, "Let's go further down the pier. We can find a bench facing the water, look at the lights over in Jersey City."

"You come out here a lot?" Castle asks.

Kate lifts one shoulder and lets it drop. "Sometimes…when I need to think." She kicks a pebble and sends it flying.

Oh!

"I had no idea," Castle says, feeling guilty somehow, although he'd struggle to explain why even to himself.

Kate glances his way, bumping arms with him in the process because they're walking so close to one another. "Why would you?"

"I don't know. I guess I just…" It's Castle's turn to shrug.

When he doesn't finish his thought, Kate decides that she wants to know the rest and so, instead of letting it go like she usually would, she pushes him for an answer. "What? Tell me what you're thinking?"

Castle gives her a long look. "I mean it," she says, "I really want to know." The surprised expression on his face makes her want to laugh or hide away in shame.

"Okay. Well, I think what I mean is that I assume I know what your life looks like when we're not together. At work. But…clearly, that's not possible. In fact, it's downright presumptuous now that I hear myself say it out loud."

Kate laughs quietly. "And since when has that ever stopped you?"

Castle slows to a halt. "Look, Beckett…Kate. I'm sorry I've been so nosey and pushy over the years. I had no right to—"

She reaches out to lay a hand on his arm. "Castle, don't. Please do _not_ apologize for caring, for looking out for me. I know it maybe started out as a game. Let's annoy Beckett. But pretty soon it became about more than that." She looks at him, a nervous smile on her face. "For me, too."

Wow! He can't think what to say; she's really pushing herself to be honest, and despite that fact that she's the bravest person he knows, he's still taken aback by her courage tonight.

"I think I see an empty bench," she says, changing the subject and giving them time to catch their breath.

They sit down and spend the first ten minutes in silence, just drinking their coffee and watching people pass by. Eventually, Castle speaks up when he senses Kate's attention being drawn away from the seriously fit male runner in black Lycra shorts who just pounded past them. "What's up?" he asks, turning to follow her gaze.

Kate lifts her chin. "Just keeping an eye on those two." Her focus has switched to a couple of teenagers in dark hoodies whom Castle hadn't even noticed. "Wondering what they're up to."

"You ever just want to take a night off? Be a private citizen?" He grins when he sees her start to smile. How he loves her smile.

She laughs. "And what would that look like?" Her eyebrows dance up and down with the question before she bumps his shoulder. "You fed up hanging out with a cop, Castle?"

He turns to stare at her, face slack like he thinks she's crazy. "No! _Never!_ " he insists.

Kate nods to herself and smoothes her hands down her jeans. "Yeah, I guess. What would you have to write about?"

This time he turns his whole body towards her until his knees are pressing into her thigh and he reaches out and takes her hand. "I'd follow you if you were a sanitation worker, Beckett. Or…or a secretary, or the Secretary of State."

"Yeah, way more perks on that last one." She's smiling to herself as she slowly shakes her head. "You know, I would never have predicted that it would end up like this." She glances at him quickly and looks away again.

End up? That's all Castle hears. End; how he hates that word when it comes to her and him. To them.

"End like what?" he asks in a pained voice.

"Sorry. Bad choice of words. I just meant that…that I never thought we'd find ourselves here. You know?" She turns to look at him for some agreement or to check that he's still with her.

"Here like physically here? At Hudson River Park? Or here as in…"

She throws her hands up. "Both. Everything. Here as in you and me, talking about the future after four years of life and death together and all the other crazy stuff that's happened in between. I gave you one maybe two weeks max when you started following me. Did you know that? I thought you'd either get bored or get shot. Or that I'd be so… _frustrated_ with you that I'd shoot you myself." She laughs, loud and silly enough that the hoodie duo looks their way.

"Wow! That's quite the confession, Beckett. Don't feel you have to sugar coat it."

She laughs again, quieter this time until it dissolves into a happy sigh and she stretches her legs out in front of her, the heels of her boots dug into the ground. "Yeah, I had it all planned out. In my darker moments, I was going to find some mope with an appropriate rap sheet, plant a drop gun under his nose and let him do the rest."

"You _planned_ how you were going to _murder me_?" Castle squeaks. His eyes are wider than she's ever seen before.

She starts to laugh again. "More fantasized than planned. You were _seriously_ annoying back then. But I would never have let it get as far as murder. I figured you'd drop the whole idea of tailing me after a little scare, maybe a light graze. A scar would have looked good on you, though, and don't pretend you wouldn't have loved showing it off."

Castle sits back on the bench and crosses his arms, no longer holding her hand or touching her in any way. "Okay, I'm not sure I like where this is going."

Kate giggles. "Relax. You grew on me. Pretty quickly, too," she says, poking his leg.

He leans back in with renewed interest. "I did?"

"Oh, shut up. You know you did." When he grins smugly, Kate chuckles and says, "Yeah, like that. I saw a lot of that face back in the day."

They fall silent, both staring out into the dark river where boats pass one another ceaselessly through the night, helicopters zip overhead and lights twinkle in the waterfront towers on the far shore of Jersey City.

"Are we talking ourselves into this? Or talking ourselves out of it? I can't tell," Kate muses as she fixes her eyes on the red glow of the Colgate clock to try to deal with how jittery she feels.

Castle bolts upright. "Hey, listen to me. You will _never_ find me talking myself out of this. Okay? _Never._ " He's so definite it surprises her. "Murder plots aside," he adds with a pout.

"But do you think we're ready for this? Do you know what that will look like? You said it yourself: you don't even know how I spend my time when we're not working together." Her face is open, but she looks a little lost. "I don't even know what brand of toothpaste you use."

Castle sighs and closes his eyes, when he opens them again he's smiling. "So _you_ can choose the toothpaste, Kate, and when we're not at work we can do things together, whatever you want. The fun is in the finding out." He takes her hand and says earnestly, "I'm ready, Kate. I've been more than ready for a long time…but I think you know that already." She meets his gaze and nods contritely. The truth passes between them like a ghost, and Castle is content to let it go, choosing to celebrate where they are now, letting the past stay in the past. "And as for what it will look like? Yeah, I have a pretty good idea." He grins broadly.

"What if we make a terrible couple?"

"You really think there's a chance of that?" He nudges her. "Come on, Beckett. We've been in more high-pressure situations than most couples see in several lifetimes. We don't fight or fall apart, we get closer, grow stronger, and we work together to get out of whatever crazy stunt the universe has pulled. We're a real team, you and me. I'll always have your back, Kate, and I know that you'll always have mine. I wouldn't want it any other way."

Kate makes a face. "So, we're really doing this? We're having 'The Talk'?" she says, briefly covering her face with her hands and bowing forward over her knees as if she's winded by the enormity of it all.

Castle tries to lighten things. "This too much for you, Beckett? We could always put our helmets back on, talk through our visors like Darth Vader," he says to break the tension.

Kate's controlling her breathing like she's trying to avoid having a panic attack. "Are you embarrassed to talk about this stuff?" he asks, genuinely curious. "About how we feel about each other? I've seen you tackle some pretty difficult⏤"

She sounds frustrated with herself when she cuts him off. "No. I'm not embarrassed. I'm…I'm _scared_ , Castle."

Suddenly, Kate gets up off the bench, taking her helmet with her. "That's it? You're leaving?" Castle asks, rising in a panic.

"I need to pace…to walk," she says, stalking away towards the metal guardrail at the end of the pier.

Castle grabs his helmet and follows.

The breeze is stronger the closer they get to the water, and the ends of Kate's hair lift and whip across her face, so she fishes a hair tie out of her pocket and twists it into a bun. Castle watches her, impressed by her dexterity, her style…just Goddam impressed period.

"You? Scared?" he says before he can stop himself. "Not possible."

Kate puts her helmet on the ground and Castle follows suit. They both lean on the rail, he in his seven-hundred dollar, pleat-fronted charcoal pants and she in her sexy jeans and biker boots. They shouldn't work, but somehow they do.

"Look, I know you think I'm this badass warrior—"

Castle interrupts. "Which you are."

She tucks a loose curl behind her ear. "Thanks, but there are still plenty of things that scare me, too."

"Such as?"

"I don't know. Lots of things," Kate insists.

"Tell me," he says gently, reaching out to stroke her back with the tips of his fingers.

She thinks for no more than a second before she says, "My dad falling off the wagon. One of my team getting shot on the job." She pauses and turns to look right at him. "Losing you," she admits softly, even the thought of it making the words catch in her throat.

Castle resists the urge to jump on her fears and simply dismiss them; he respects her too much to do that. He reaches for her hand instead, lifts it to his lips and presses a kiss to her knuckles. Eventually, he says, "You'll never lose me. I'm the plucky sidekick you just can't shake. You should know that by now. We're partners, Beckett."

"Partners," she repeats, nodding her agreement. But then she looks at him. "Like Ryan and Espo are partners?"

Castle scans her face for a moment before shaking his head. "I can't lie, Kate. Feels like a lot more than that to me. I don't think there was ever a time Kevin thought about going down on one knee in the break room so he could ditch Jenny for Javi, do you?"

They start to laugh at the absurdity of that idea, but Kate quickly sobers. "Castle, you asked me a question earlier today and I didn't answer."

Castle watches her expression change, grow serious, and he starts to panic. He tries to see her eyes, but he just can't read them; it's too dark. Suddenly, he has a bad feeling. No. Please, Kate, he prays inside, don't give in to the fear.

He jumps in to avert disaster. "So, how about I ask you another one? Hmm?" he says, trying to keep the terror from showing on his face and bleeding into his voice. "An easier question, okay?" he promises, forcing a smile for her.

"Castle, no." Kate shakes her head. She lays a gentle hand on his arm and he sags under the weight of tension, feeling defeated and like he might just cry. She covers his hand with her own and squeezes; he tastes the bitter edge of consolation in her touch. He was so close, and this feels a lot like being let down gently until she says, "Rick? Rick look at me." She waits for him to raise his eyes to her. "I don't want easy. Easy is not who we are."

Castle frowns even as he raises his head to look at her, and when he sees her face lit by the ambient light, she's smiling and those are definitely tears glistening in _her_ eyes.

"You…you don't want easy?" he asks uncertainly, daring to hope this is leading where he thinks it's leading.

She half-smiles and shakes her head. "No."

"Then…"

She drifts towards him until they're standing toe-to-toe. Castle watches her and his heart is in his throat. Her face grows a little fuzzy because suddenly she's standing so close, and he blames the wind off the water for the tears in his eyes, blurring his vision. When he turns to block the breeze with his back, she turns with him; two people forever in sync.

"I don't want easy," she repeats as she takes his face in her hands, leaning in to nuzzle her cheek against his, sliding her nose alongside his, closing her eyes because his skin on her skin is electric and she feels so close to him. A tear rolls down her cheek, and she finds his mouth with her eyes still closed. Her fingers feather along his jaw and the back of his neck as she arches onto her tiptoes and kisses him softly but firmly. She moans into his mouth, a needy, desperate sound, when his arms band tightly around her body and he kisses her back, ardently, groaning as he claims her with everything he has. They're all out of air when she finally eases back just a fraction to whisper her truth against his damp, kiss-swollen lips.

"I don't want easy, Castle. To hell with easy. I just want you."

 _TBC..._

* * *

A/N: Lovely people who read and review: thank you so much! Reviews are like food; they make us write faster, and sometimes your comments even influence the story! Happy Memorial Day weekend to my American friends. I hope the sun is shining wherever you are.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Apologies for the break in transmission; I took a short vacation. Thank you for your kind and thoughtful reviews to the last chapter._

* * *

 ** _Slow Burn_**

 _Chapter 6_

 _Previously..._

"I don't want easy," she repeats as she takes his face in her hands, leaning in to nuzzle her cheek against his, sliding her nose alongside his, closing her eyes because his skin on her skin is electric and she feels so close to him. A tear rolls down her cheek, and she finds his mouth with her eyes still closed. Her fingers feather along his jaw and the back of his neck as she arches onto her tiptoes and kisses him softly but firmly. She moans into his mouth, a needy, desperate sound, when his arms band tightly around her body and he kisses her back, ardently, groaning as he claims her with everything he has. They're all out of air when she finally eases back just a fraction to whisper her truth against his damp, kiss-swollen lips.

"I don't want easy, Castle. To hell with easy. I just want you."

* * *

Their eyes are still closed, their heads pressed together resting temple-to-temple as they work to get oxygen back into their lungs.

Someone curses in wonder - it must be her - and Castle emits a chuckle that zips right to Kate's core. When a barge plows past on the night-darkened Hudson blasting on its horn, neither of them moves. Everyday life is held at bay somewhere outside this perfect bubble they have created for one another, and Kate wonders how long this feeling of elation can possibly last.

She clutches onto him, whispering, "Rick," and her voice breaks over his name. Need and grief, guilt and sorrow mingle with love and joy in that single syllable and they wrap their arms more tightly around one another, squeezing with silent desperation, and there's so much meaning, so much longing expressed in this single gesture. Years to get here culminating in a unifying sigh of "finally."

This moment of high emotion is broken when Hoodie One wolf whistles like a longshoreman from a nearby bench, louder than any human whistle Kate has ever heard, while Hoodie Two yells a surprisingly childish, "Yo! Old people? You disgusting. There be little kids watching, man. Get a room!"

Their leather jackets squeak in protest as they draw apart a little. Kate throws her head back, expelling joyful laughter that quickly turns into a slightly crazed, happy sigh when she buries her face in Castle's neck. This affectionate gesture only makes him hold her more tightly. One of the teenagers shouts something lewd, and Kate flips him the bird behind Castle's back as she opens her mouth against the warm skin in front of her to tongue his Adam's apple. When she scrapes her teeth over his throat and feels him grunt and shudder, she blanks out the kids and shifts her attention back to her partner's mouth, so dizzy with the taste of him, worshiping their newfound closeness with kisses that last until her brain screams for air.

Somewhere in all of this, Castle slides his hands down from her hips to cup her ass. The hooded duo finally loses interest and departs. There are still plenty of people about, though neither of them cares enough to bother with faceless strangers. They are adrift in their own corner of New York, lost to the rest of the world, floating in this together.

When Castle slips his hands into the back pockets of her skin-tight jeans, Kate thanks God and whoever invented the 2% elastane in her _7 For All Mankind_ skinnies because there is no room in there and his hands are on the large side – boy has she noticed that over the years but never more so than right now as he wriggles his sturdy digits further down and down, attempting to get more of a handful of flesh. He squeezes her buttocks and she forces herself to break the hottest kiss she's ever experienced.

She's panting when she exclaims, " _Fuck!_ Where have you _been_ for the last four years?" before burying her grin in his collar and doing a little ass squeezing of her own.

"Four years…I've been right here, Kate. Just waiting and hoping for this…this moment," he confesses, trying to keep the worst that this truth has done to him out of his voice, at least for tonight.

She drops her forehead against his jaw, holding herself there, so high on physical sensation and wave after wave of emotion that she needs a timeout to catch her breath. Before long she's on the move again, exploring. She kisses him lightly on the side of his mouth, tiny butterfly kisses of apology that shoot bolts of electricity from her body into his. "I've been an idiot, Castle," she whispers, nuzzling his cheek. "I'm sorry it took me so long," she says, long fingers tightening around his ribs as if trying to imprint her apology into his skin.

But Castle shakes his head and kisses her hair in a wordless gesture of forgiveness. "We made it, Kate. That's all that counts at the end of the day. We made it."

Finally, Kate stands up a little straighter, loosening her hold on him as she tries to shake the fog of lust swirling around their little corner of the Hudson. She tugs on his jacket and says, "Hey, come on. It's getting late. We should go home."

But Castle holds her fast, drawing her hard against him once more so that he can kiss her again, demanding, ardent, persuasive, almost furious in his intention, one hand locked in her hair and the other still on her ass, fusing their hips together with an urgency that makes her heart beat right out of her chest.

Kate gives herself to him, responding in kind because she can't stop herself anymore; she knows she doesn't want to. When her arousal threatens to peak and her senses clamor for release or calm, she squirms to loosen his grip, laughing helplessly when he whines like a child, "But I don't want to go home."

She kisses him softly, slipping her tongue into his mouth, enjoying him, languid in a way he cannot fathom when her arms are still wound so tightly around his neck.

She teases him with the tip of her tongue, sliding it so slowly and sensuously over his, giving rise to such a flood of sensation that sparks fire behind her eyes and goosebumps rise all over her skin.

Eventually, she breaks the kiss with a heaving chest and a great deal of regret.

"Hey. Hey, look at me," she says, angling his face towards her so that she can see his eyes and he can see hers. "You and me? This… _relationship?_ We exist outside of this spot, Castle," she promises the fear she can see etched into his features. "Might take us a little time to figure out how to do that, but we'll make it. Now…let me take you home."

By the time they pull up in front of his building, her body is on fire. If he held her tightly on the ride out, his hands seemed to be everywhere at once on the short journey back to the loft. When Kate dismounts, her legs are trembling. She pulls off her helmet and shakes out her hair to find Castle grinning at her as if he can read her mind.

She lets her eyes flicker up the front of his apartment block to the top floor where the large windows are softly illuminated. The view is enticing, but she steels herself and says, "You should go in. I've got an early start tomorrow if I'm going to clear the decks by lunchtime."

Castle nods as if he expected her to say something of this nature, but he's unable to keep the dark lurk of disappointment completely from his eyes.

"Text me as soon as you clarify things with Alexis, okay?" she says to offer him some crumb of reassurance since it's quite evident that he still needs this from her.

"Oh, take that as read," he insists, waving his hand dismissively. "She is _off_ the team." He hooks his fingers through her belt loops, bringing her to him. "You and me, Kate. We are going to this wedding together or not at all," he says emphatically.

Kate rolls her eyes and shakes her head. The sentiment is flattering, and she loves his fierce, impulsive drive when it comes to them, but this tack will do nothing to help her soured relationship with the young redhead. "No. Your daughter comes first. Ask her. I'm not going with you unless you do this properly, Rick."

He plays with the zipper on her leather jacket, pulling it up and down. The vibration that spreads out over her already sensitive nipples is driving her nuts. "Keep calling me Rick and I'm dragging you upstairs to my bed and never letting you leave," he threatens.

Kate laughs at this display of possessive masculinity and gives him a playful shove. "Caveman routine? Really, Rick?" The click of his name on her tongue drives him crazy she can see, until it suddenly gets too much and she catches the glassy sheen of tears glittering in his eyes. The time for kidding is over.

She takes his hand. "If Alexis still wants to go, we'll all three of us go together. At the end of the day, none of this matters. We'll know. Okay? We're going as partners, right? Ride or die, Rick Castle. You with me?"

When he smiles at her, she marvels at her own ability to chase his sadness away; it feels epic, like a suddenly discovered superpower. She plans on doing a lot more giving in future; he's been putting her first for years.

They finally part on a kiss that is as lingering as it is sweet. "Tomorrow," she whispers, patting his chest. "Either way, I'll come pick you up," she offers. "Oh, and wear the blue shirt?" she turns back to ask, blushing under the streetlight as she makes this personal request. "The one with the⏤"

"I know which one," he assures her, stroking his thumb along her jawline, watching her eyes darken with lust that is for him alone and feeling his heart swell with love for her.

Kate parks her bike in the garage and walks home feeling as though she is missing something, and this time it's not her cherished motorcycle. When she gets back to her apartment, she is exhausted but still so wired that she knows there is no way she will sleep. So she takes a long shower in an attempt to tame the arousal licking at every part of her body. She lingers under the flow of hot water and steam as she explores the delicious yearning Castle has stirred in her tonight. It takes almost no effort for her to feel Castle's hands moving over her skin instead of her own; her body still burns in every place he touched her over the last couple of hours. When she finally comes, it is with a sudden, violent shudder, his name dying on her lips and the memory of his mouth moving over hers, and for once she has no need of his writer's imagination, needs no story to tell herself, no pretty words. Because they are real now, all of it is real, and they will only make better stories together from now on.

She slips beneath the covers, sated and sleepy, and immediately reaches for the light switch. As she lies in the dark with a smile on her face letting sleep come for her, the bedroom ceiling is lit up by the sudden glow from her phone.

His text reads:

 _\- We got permission! We're going to a wedding. Just the two of us! Sleep well, detective. Until tomorrow, Rick xxx -_

Kate hums to herself as she types out a reply. She was hoping for Alexis' blessing, but permission is a start, and maybe they'll need her blessing for other things in time, who knows. She bites her lip at the secret thrill this thought gives her.

She writes back:

 _\- It's a date! Pick you up at one sharp. Sweet dreams, Rick. -_

She takes a deep breath before she adds: - _Love, Kate xxx -_ to the end of the message and presses send.

They both fall asleep with smiles on their faces, destined for dreams that are sweet indeed.

 _TBC..._


	7. Chapter 7

**_Slow Burn_**

 _Chapter 7_

Kate spends more time than usual on her hair, creating curls that will last through a few hours of paperwork and survive the morning's unwelcome heat. Similarly, she lingers over her make-up: a smoky eye she'd never normally wear to the precinct, a darker shade of lipstick that will stand up to the sophisticated charcoal silk of her seriously expensive dress.

She packed a bag with her heels, clutch, her makeup bag for touch-ups, perfume, and even a toothbrush to take to work. Her dress is safely cocooned inside a suit carrier. She's traveling to the precinct in jeans and a button-down, planning to change into her wedding outfit before she leaves the Twelfth to pick Castle up at his loft on her way to the wedding, which is being held at a pretty Catholic church on Staten Island. The ceremony is scheduled to begin at two-thirty sharp, and if she knows this bride and groom, then that is exactly when the nuptials will begin.

So, she has it all planned out: her day, her outfit, the timing, her car.

But then there is Richard Castle, the man who knows a guy in every state and every nook and cranny of the city, high and low and all trades in between, a man of infinite patience and none, a man who is head over heels in love.

Things do not go according to plan. Well, at least, not according to Kate Beckett's plan.

* * *

She settles at her desk with a mug of coffee she persuaded one of the night shift guys to make for her before he clocked off shift. Burns from Castle's fancy machine, lank curls from the damn steam wand, or a chipped manicure are all hazards she was happy to forgo this particular morning.

The bullpen is quiet; Ryan is at home freaking out that Jenny might not show up at the altar, and Esposito has taken the entire day off after muttering something about last minute shopping, which Kate suspects means that he plans to make an ill-fated sartorial attempt to turn Lanie's head. She smiles to herself as she thinks about Lanie and about what she will say when she sees Kate walking into the church with Castle; how happy they will all be.

Humming to herself while she completes a DD5 is not her usual M.O., and the patrolman who arrives at her desk carrying a white florist's box seems discomforted by her singing. She takes the box with a smile of thanks and watches as he gets the hell out of there like his pants are soaked in gasoline and Kate is juggling an open flame.

If the box is beautiful in and of itself, when she opens it, she discovered that the contents are more than a match. The heavenly-scented frangipani with soft pink petals and a yellow heart will make the perfect corsage against the backdrop and more sober sophistication of her silk dress.

She picks up the phone, something she has resisted doing since she got up this morning, and she dials Castle's number.

"You got me flowers?" she says, smiling broadly because she can no longer help it.

She can hear him smiling, too, when he says, "Well, good morning to you, detective."

She holds the corsage up to the light. "Castle, these are beautiful. They smell divine. But you didn't have to do this."

"I wasn't sure you'd have time and I was organizing a buttonhole for myself, so…"

Kate smiles into the back of her hand and shakes her head. "They're matching, aren't they? We're going to match?" she says, already knowing what his answer will be.

In the past, she would have yelled at him and made a fuss if he'd pulled a stunt like this. Now she just feels grateful, taken care of; her heart expands to fill her chest and she grows warm inside.

"Was that a mistake?" he stammers. "Did…did you want…should we be keeping whatever we're⏤" Now she's sure she can hear him wince. "Did you want low-key?"

Kate sighs. When she speaks to him her voice is soft. "Rick, it's fine. The flowers are beautiful. And I'm sure everyone will be too busy looking at the bride to notice that our buttonholes match, in any case."

Castle isn't so sure her theory holds water, but he doesn't argue back because the next logical thought he has hits him like a thunderbolt: Kate Beckett is going to make a stunning bride one day.

He quashes the jolt of excitement and reckless impulsiveness that arises hot on the heels of that image to say, "So long as you're comfortable. That's all that matters. I…" He hesitates.

"What?"

"I want us to have fun today," he confesses with a lot less swagger and a lot more sincerity than his usual joke-peppered style.

"I'd like that, too," Kate agrees warmly, glad that they are finally on the same page.

"Oh," he says, the hesitation back in his voice.

Kate presses the phone closer to her ear. "Mm? What is it?"

"There's one more thing you should probably know."

Now Castle is definitely cringing, and there's a long pause that makes Kate distinctly uncomfortable. She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "Castle, what did you do?"

"It's nothing really."

"Castle?" she repeats, leaving no room for doubt that she wants to know.

He makes himself small, even though she can't see him, when he takes a deep breath and says, "I've arranged a car to pick you up." When she doesn't immediately chastise him, he hurries to flesh out his explanation. "Then you can stop by the loft and pick me up and we can go to the wedding together as planned. That way we can enjoy ourselves at the reception and not have to worry about drinking and driving later."

"That's…considerate," she says, still waiting for the other shoe to drop. "What brought this on? The car? The flowers? You're not planning any other grand gestures, are you?" she asks, laughing a little nervously.

"I jumped too far ahead yesterday," he admits, sounding surprisingly grown-up and contrite.

Kate laughs. "And this is you walking things back?"

"Yeah. Is it not working?"

"Oh, Castle," she sighs.

"I don't want to make you mad at me. Not today."

"Rick, I'm not mad. Far from it. I'm just sorry I have you walking on eggshells all the time. The flowers are sweet. The car is sweet. I'll see you at one. Okay?"

He makes a happy sound, mumbles something about needing time to get ready, then he ends the call just as a thought occurs to Kate and she cries out, "Wait! Castle, please tell me you didn't rent some flashy stretch limo?"

But he's already gone. She'll just have to wait and see.

* * *

By noon, Kate has finished her most pressing reports and she's fidgety as hell. She goes to the ladies room to change into her dress and touch up her hair and make-up. She's just returned to the bullpen when the desk sergeant calls up to let her know that her ride has arrived. Kate braces herself to ask, "Is it…did he…?"

"Castle send this car for you?" the desk sergeant asks.

She steels herself. "Yes. Am I going to be able to live it down?"

The desk sergeant sucks air through his teeth. "Gee. I dunno. How long 'til you do your twenty?" he says.

"I'm going to kill him," Kate mutters, adding, "Just…tell the driver I'll be right down."

The desk sergeant's jowls are shaking in time with his belly when he puts the phone down. "You owe me, Rick," he says into his cell phone.

"She believed you?" Castle asks, excited as a child.

"Oh, she sounded real mad. Doesn't suspect a thing."

"Perfect! I'll drop those Yankees tickets off next week," Castle promises. "Get me a picture of her face when she sees the car and I'll get you a meet and greet with Joe Girardi himself."

* * *

When Kate goes outside, there's a sapphire blue Bentley GT convertible sitting by the curb with the top down. The creamy calfskin leather glows like fresh-churned butter in the sunshine…and there is no driver in sight.

When she turns around to look for the desk sergeant, he's standing at the top of the steps with a set of keys dangling from his meaty fingertip.

"Where's the driver?" She looks past the sergeant at the precinct-house doors. "Did he go inside to take a leak?"

"Guy dropped the keys off. Asked if you'd be able to handle it. I almost cuffed the snot-nosed kid around the ear on your behalf, detective." He shrugs. "Anyway, those were my instructions. Take the keys and pass them on. Tempted to take it for a spin myself."

"Wait. What did you say?" Kate narrows her eyes. "What instructions? Who gave you instructions, Bill? Was it Castle? Did he call and ask you to set me up?"

The grin on the desk sergeant's face tells her everything she needs to know. "Nice surprise, huh?" he says, adding wistfully, "Wish the wife would do something like that for me."

Kate chokes on her own saliva and has to cough to clear her throat. "Castle's not my…no. I don't know what you've heard, or _think_ you've heard, but we're just…"

Her fit of rationalizing and dissembling comes sailing to a halt when her hearing catches up with her mouth and her brain. Whatever she's about to deny would be a betrayal of them both, so she shuts up and just takes the keys from Bill with the sweetest of smiles. She's more than grateful when he ignores her emotional outburst and simply stands quietly watching her load her things into the trunk.

The Bentley is gorgeous, beautiful, with paintwork the dark navy color of sapphires. When the sun hits the doorframe, the bright spark of blue reminds her of Castle's eyes; she is doomed. She trails her fingertips lightly over the gleaming surface and then she reaches down to open the driver's door. As she settles behind the wheel, she looks up to see Sergeant Bill Hannigan, a man not known for his sentimental side, watching her with a soppy grin on his face…and his iPhone raised.

Kate starts the car, immediately admiring the smooth sound of the engine. She checks that she's got a handle on all of the controls, and then she slowly eases out of the parking spot to head for Castle's loft. As soon as she's safely in the conga line of slow-moving traffic inching down Broadway, she calls him on her phone.

"You like the car?" he says without preamble, adding, "And don't pretend otherwise," before she can even respond. "I have inculpatory evidence, detective."

She laughs because she can't help herself today as they fall back on their old shtick, which is comforting because it feels so natural.

"What evidence, Castle? And who says it's even admissible? If we're in discovery, and I think it's safe to say that we are," she adds a little suggestively, "you'd better release it to me now."

"Well, since you asked so nicely. I wouldn't want to risk a Brady violation," Castle says cleverly.

Oh, he thinks he's so smart.

"Ah, except the Brady doctrine only applies to exculpatory evidence, counselor, required to be handed over by the prosecution," Kate informs him tartly.

"Then you do realize you just admitted your own guilt, detective?" Castle crows.

"You wish! And just who's the defendant in this case anyway?" Kate counters. "I wasn't the one doing the setting up."

"You know you're so _hot_ when you use that smart mouth against me, Beckett," he says with a voice that sends shivers racing around Kate's body.

Kate's eyes widen when she glances to her right, horrified to realize that the guy in the next car has heard Castle's side of the conversation over the loudspeaker. The stranger gives her a wink and she looks away, jamming on her sunglasses, determined not to blush.

"Hey, look. You're breaking up. I've gotta go. Be there in ten," she promises, quickly ending the call before Castle can say anything else that's meant for her ears only.

A gap finally opens up in the traffic, and she steps on the gas.

* * *

Eduardo, the doorman, is waiting outside Castle's building, guarding a parking spot reserved for Kate, ready to hold the keys until they leave for Staten Island.

When Kate arrives on Castle's floor, the front door of the loft is ajar. She lets herself in, her high heels echoing across the wooden floor of the empty living space.

"In here," she hears Castle call out from what she guesses is his bedroom.

"Oh, sure. I'll amuse myself out here," she calls back, assuming he's putting the finishing touches to whatever he's wearing and just needs a minute.

But his head pokes around the door and he smiles at her. "Hey. No, I meant, come in here."

Kate feels her face getting warm again and she inwardly chastises herself for behaving like a thirty-year-old virgin around him now that lines are in the process of being redrawn. What is wrong with her?

"You want me to come into your bedroom?" she asks. And yeah, she damn well is blushing. Shit! She looks at her watch. "We're due at the church in an hour. You know what traffic can be like…"

She stops talking when she becomes aware of him laughing. At her. "I'm delighted you'd think I'd try to seduce you when we're on the clock, Beckett. But when we get there, I know I for one want to make sure we take our time. That okay with you? Can you hold yourself in check a little longer?"

Kate rolls her eyes and shakes her head as walks towards him. He stops laughing to devour her with his eyes as she does so.

"Can I just say, and don't get the wrong idea, or rather do…anyway, you look _hot as all hell_ in that dress. You're _stunning_ , Kate," he says with so much sincerity that when she reaches him, all she can do is caress his face and reach up to kiss him softly.

Someone eventually murmurs, "We're going to be late," and reluctantly they pull apart.

"What do you need?" she asks, her voice tight with emotion.

Castle squeezes her shoulder. "Help me pick out a tie? Alexis usually weighs in, but she's out with that boy, so…"

Kate smiles, her heart melting at being asked. "Always happy to help," she says, taking the hand he offers and following him into his bedroom for the first time.

His personal sanctuary is exactly as she'd always imagined it: dark, masculine colors, but warm and luxurious, too, with a softness that confirms she is going to enjoy getting to know him in here when the time comes. She is going to enjoy it very much.

He seems amused as he watches her looking around and taking everything in, but then he tugs on her hand to draw her inside his closet and, oh my, could she do with one of these!

She trails her hand along a rail of very familiar sports coats and expensive suit jackets, feeling the lux fabric of some of them slip through her fingers for the first time, though she has often spent time with her partner wearing these very clothes.

He leads her to a set of specially designed drawers where row upon row of silk ties are curled up into a roll and displayed.

"Which one?" he asks, enjoying the look of wonder on her face as her fingers dance over the coils of woven silk.

She glances at him, her face lit up like a kid in a candy store. "There are _so many_. But I never get to see you wear a tie," she laments, revealing rather a lot with her tone if nothing else.

Castle shrugs. "Not to the precinct, maybe. But I wear them to meetings, sometimes signings, events. What can I say? I have a weakness for neckties."

Kate raises an eyebrow. "Among other things."

Silently, he moves behind her, slipping his arms around her waist as she scans them carefully. He moves her hair aside to kiss her neck and Kate groans so loudly in the quiet of the closet that it sounds obscene. "If you ask nicely, I'll wear a tie for you any time, any place, anywhere, detective."

"Kiss me like that again and I may just have to tie you to the bed with some of these. Now, scoot," she says, elbowing him in his midsection as she wriggles to free herself.

Castle chuckles, smoothing his hands over her hips to straighten her dress before reluctantly letting them drop to his sides as he steps back to give her some room.

"Time's running away with us," he says, accepting the tie she finally presents to him with some ceremony, draped over her arm like a vintage bottle of wine or a samurai sword.

She watches closely and without hiding the fact while he stands in front of the mirror to put the tie on. When he fumbles the knot, he complains that she makes him nervous, and Kate thrills at the sexual power this simple confession confers upon her.

She felt like a wife when she helped him pick out that tie, and he feels like her husband as he gingerly pins the corsage to her dress in the seconds before they leave.

How long will they carry on pretending that they are not yet what they have already become? Because somewhere down the road they went from being one another's work spouse to being married in all but the eyes of the law, without ever needing rings and flowers, a suit or a dress.

 _TBC..._

* * *

 _A/N: Many thanks to those who are still reading and reviewing this story. I'm taking my lead from the title and going for a Slow Burn. Liv_


	8. Chapter 8

**_Slow Burn_**

 _Chapter 8_

They stand close to one another in the elevator on the ride down, much closer than normal, their arms just touching, the backs of their hands kissing from time to time.

Kate feels surrounded by him, by his scent, fresh from the shower, his face shaved to baby-soft smoothness then splashed with that zesty cologne she loves; a cologne she suspects he saves for special occasions because he wears it so infrequently. As the elevator car sinks, she can feel the heat of his body radiating through the fine Pima cotton of his beautiful blue shirt. He has his suit jacket slung over his shoulder, casually dangling from the crook of his finger. With his sunglasses already on, it makes him like a cool, Las Vegas Rat Packer.

If she concentrates, she can still feel the embrace of his arms around her when they were inside his closet selecting a tie, his hands smoothing her dress over her hips. She can feel his lips on her neck, too, and the cool rush of air as he swept her hair aside. She shivers. Holding back is delicious, and they will never be this close to the edge again, in a place where knowledge has yet to replace imagination. Carnal knowledge, she reminds herself and shivers again. Right at this moment, she is like a prospective new homeowner, who, having visited the property a number of times, has begun to fantasize about the placement of furniture, the hanging of drapes, all in anticipation of an early closing, having already fallen head over heels in love.

"You okay?" Castle asks, breaking into the quiet bubble of her mind.

She turns and smiles at him, their fingers briefly tangling. "Yeah. Great." Her voice is hoarse with emotion, the strangled sound not what she expects to come out of her mouth. When Castle looks a little concerned, she touches his arm and squeezes. "Don't look so worried. Really. I'm good." Then the elevator doors open.

When they get out into the street, a small crowd of Japanese tourists has gathered around the car. Young girls dressed in mini-kilts and wearing Hello Kitty backpacks giggle as they crowd next to the blue Bentley to pose for a group photo, which Eduardo patiently snaps several times over on a series of expensive cameras and phones.

When Castle stops suddenly in the middle of the sidewalk and says, "Wow! She. Is. A _Beauty!_ " Kate turns to give him a quizzical look, but his gaze is firmly locked on the sapphire-blue car and not on the gaggle of cute, Asian millennials.

She really needs to start giving him more credit.

Eduardo gently shepherds the young women away and hands Castle the keys. "Just beautiful, Mr. Castle," the doorman says, adding, "Looks perfect for you," and his eyes stray towards Kate.

Castle taps the side of his nose and says something that Kate doesn't catch.

"My thinking exactly," are the words she misses as he slips the doorman a twenty-dollar bill. But then her partner is turning around and distracting her with the keys, so she forgets to ask him to repeat what he just said.

"Castle, I drove it down here. Staten Island should be your turn," Kate says, trying to play fair though in truth she's itching to snatch the keys right out of his grasp.

Castle presses the car key into her palm and closes his large hands around her own. They feel soft and warm and safe. He leans in so that only she can hear him. "I'd rather watch you drive the Bentley, Beckett." Then he pauses, replaying what he's just said, before adding almost to himself, "And who'd have thought I'd ever utter those words? Hm."

Kate considers his offer for a second longer before she nods. "Okay, Castle. If you prefer to watch," she says with a flirtatious wink and a toss of her hair.

She's opening the driver-side door and sinking into the soft calfskin leather when she hears him say, "And who knows, if we really like it, maybe we'll buy one," before he climbs into the passenger seat beside her.

The engine is already purring, but she's not mistaken. She turns to stare at him. "Did you just say what I think you said?"

Castle is fiddling with the touch-screen Sat Nav and music system, the climate control, opening and closing the polished wood veneer glovebox, poking around like he usually does. "Mm?" he hums in a distracted manner. "These controls are top of the line."

"Were you really just talking about buying this car?" she says, flicking on the blinker and pulling out onto Bleecker Street.

"Sure. Why not? Thanks to Nikki Heat, we can afford it. What better way to celebrate if we both like how it drives?"

* * *

Kate is quiet for the next several minutes as she navigates south on West Street, eventually taking them through the Battery Tunnel to Brooklyn. She's in a daze chewing over the simple, generous (more than generous) suggestion Castle just threw out there as if dropping close to a quarter of a million dollars on a luxury car was nothing. And maybe when you're as rich as Richard Castle it really is nothing. With her NYPD salary, what does she know?

But it was his choice of pronoun that really struck her; he is, after all, at his most particular when it comes to grammar. And this time, he employed the first person plural pronoun "we" when he talked about buying the car. " _We_ can afford it," he said as though they are already more than work partners, more than best friends, more like that husband and wife who share large financial decisions along with everything else: the good, the bad, and the mundane in between.

This concept of them as a new, committed whole keeps presenting itself to her today, both via Castle and herself if she's being honest.

She is silent for a long time, having retreated inside her head to figure things out: how she feels about developments over the last twenty-four hours, to say nothing of the last four years. Maybe they have already become that "we." Maybe they slipped into those roles and she simply failed to notice the transition because it became so easy, so seamless after they fought it for so long. They've already owned up to the desire and maybe they've already stumbled upon the secret to working the kinks out, too. Who knows?

What she does know, beyond all doubt, is that she doesn't want to be with anyone else and she doesn't want to see _him_ with anyone else, not ever again. That would crush her. When this realization hits her square in the chest, she finds herself reaching for him, seeking out his hand even as she concentrates on the road, on protecting this beautiful car while her hair rises up around her head, carefully-styled curls flying in the backdraft with the top down in the sunshine, and she doesn't even care.

This must be what joy feels like, she imagines. It's been a long time since she felt pure joy for more than a passing moment.

"You okay?" Castle asks when she finds his hand and gives it a quick squeeze.

Though there are tears in her eyes (it's the wind, she tells herself) – and this will become a feature of the day - she gives him a genuine, heartfelt smile. "I'm good. I'm really good. But I'm pulling over once we cross the Verrazano Bridge. You _have_ to drive this car, Castle. It's a dream machine."

He watches her a moment longer before nodding in agreement. "Okay. If you say so."

"Anyway, might be nice if you're the one doing the chauffeuring when we pull up to the church," she says, surprising him even more.

"Not that I'm complaining, but it's unlike you to ask to be driven anywhere, Beckett."

She dismisses this observation with a wave of her hand. "Yeah, well, this is a special occasion. Kind of feels like the right time," she adds cryptically.

* * *

Kate pulls off the Staten Island Expressway in Grasmere and they switch seats.

"Well, this feels weird," Castle says, a mile-wide grin on his face and his hands at ten and two as he pilots them back onto the interstate bound for St. Teresa's Catholic Church.

A few minutes later, they take the exit Ryan instructed. "Can you believe this place is called _Castleton_ Corners?" he says.

"What about the church? Did I ever tell you that my aunt's name is Teresa?" Kate says.

"You're kidding? This whole thing is a little freaky."

"I hope it's not the universe giving us another sign," Kate suggests, poking fun at him and laughing as she does so.

"Hey, we said we're done being pushed around by the universe," Castle reminds her. "She made her point and⏤"

"The universe is a she?"

Castle nods. "Yes, she is and she is a hopeless romantic, too."

"Of course. Though maybe not so hopeless anymore."

He shoots her an excited look. "But we've got this, right? We're on our own now. We don't need anyone's help. Agreed?"

She nods. "Agreed. So what did Alexis say when you asked her permission to take me to this thing?"

They look at one another and begin to laugh.

"Hey, eyes on the road. You break it you buy it, Castle. And if we're buying it, I'd prefer it came without dents as an optional extra."

"I _knew_ you'd love this car!" he says, slapping the steering wheel. "God my royalties are so screwed this month."

Her eyebrows shoot up and she turns to stare. "Just this month?"

He shrugs. "Maybe a couple of months. But don't worry. We'll get by. I'll still bring you coffee, Beckett" he says with a boyish grin.

And there he is with that "we" again.

* * *

The church is pretty as modern churches go: red brick with a well-kept garden lining the concrete front walk, which is already teaming with guests from both sides of the wedding party. Men and women are milling around outside, chatting in friendly clumps, dressed in suits, pretty dresses, and hats. They've been told they can use the schoolyard next door and so that's what they do, parking the only Bentley ever likely to grace this fenced-off acre of Staten Island alongside a souped-up Dodge Charger with black and white racing stripes and an FDNY bumper sticker.

Castle shuts off the engine and when he turns to Kate she's taming her wind-blown hair and checking her face in the mirror.

"Alexis was delighted to step aside by the way," he says, reigniting a conversation they never actually finished. "In fact, her exact words were, 'Dad, I'm so excited for you.' Then she gave me a hug."

"You get all that just for letting her off the hook of going to a cop wedding?" Kate says because she senses that there's more he's not saying.

He fiddles with the car key. "Maybe not just that."

She turns to face him. "Then…what else?" When he hesitates, she says, "Go on. You can tell me." She suspects she already knows what earned him his daughter's enthusiasm.

"Promise not to get mad?"

"Promise," she says softly and her lips curve into a smile.

He looks down at his slacks, smoothing out the wrinkles and straightening the crease before he says, "Okay," and blows out a breath. "I may have told her what happened yesterday. At the precinct."

Kate nods thoughtfully but says nothing. She licks her lips and her fingers curl on her lap.

"What? Kate, what is it? Please tell me what you're thinking?" Castle begs.

She shakes her head slightly from side to side and shrugs with one shoulder. "Nothing. It's fine. I know how close you two are. So, of course, you'd tell her."

"But you're upset with me," he says, crushing the car key in his hand.

Kate reaches out to peel his fingers away from the fob. His palm is marked red and blanched white by the strength of his grip. "You'll hurt yourself," she says, smoothing his palm with the stroke of her fingers.

"I don't want to hurt you. I never want to hurt you and yet⏤"

"Castle, stop," she says gently. "You haven't hurt me. Did I want a little time to think things through? Yes. But I can't expect you to keep this kind of thing from your kid, even if I wanted you to."

He looks up at her tentatively. "So…we're okay?"

She grins. "We're good. Now, put a smile back on your face because here comes Esposito. Oh! And it looks like he's with Lanie!" she says with surprise.

They get out of the car after Castle closes the roof in case of showers – although the weather is set fair – or thieves or vandals.

Lanie reaches them first. She gives Castle a little wave across the hood of the car before she pulls Kate into a hug. "Honey, you look gorgeous!"

"Watch the flowers!" Kate exclaims, fluffing her frangipani when they pull apart.

She almost laughs out loud when she thinks of this, and she knows that Castle would laugh, too. She's fluffing her frangipani; how rude that sounds. She makes a mental note to share this with him later, maybe at the reception. She couldn't keep a straight face if she tells him in church and she knows he couldn't, either.

Yes. How well she knows this man, she thinks with a jolt of longing as she watches him embrace her friend, and how well he knows her in return, from the darkest, hidden corners of her half-broken heart to her straight-shooter need for justice and all the other murky foibles in between. He's seen it all and he's still here. The only one who lasted, the one who stuck around, the man who fought tooth and nail to be by her side, through life and death and all that's yet to come.

He is the one man who has proved himself deserving of her heart, time without number. He catches her staring and there's a worried question in his eyes which she immediately calms with a minute shake of her head that only he can see.

"Matching buttonholes? Nice touch!" Lanie says. She turns her back on Castle to give Kate a surreptitious wink. "So, does this mean…?"

"It means I was stuck at my desk this morning completing paperwork and Castle was kind enough to organize my corsage," Kate says, defying Lanie to contradict her unromantic summation of the facts in front of Esposito.

"Cool car, dude," Esposito says, and they all turn to admire the sapphire-blue Bentley.

"You like it?" Castle says with a big grin. "Because we're thinking of buying it," he adds, patting the convertible's roof as though it was a pet.

Kate's eyes widen and a blush she cannot stop begins to creep up her neck.

But Esposito laughs. "Seriously, though, bro." Gingerly, he reaches out to skim his fingertips over the Bentley's paintwork.

He flinches when Castle grabs his arm and yells, "Don't scratch it!" Laughing his head off at Javi's freaked-out reaction.

The moment passes. Kate can see Lanie hasn't missed a thing, but she is behind her friend one hundred percent and would never do anything to betray her, never in love, or make to her feel uncomfortable on this important day.

She takes Esposito by the arm. "We'll see you two inside," she calls over her shoulder, leaving Kate and Castle standing next to the largest commitment they have ever contemplating making. Aside from marriage that is.

"You really serious about buying this car, Castle?" Kate asks, stroking the paintwork the way Javi has just done.

"If it pleases madam, damn straight I am. I'll have the funds transferred and the paperwork signed by tomorrow."

She looks at him, her head on a tilt, observing. "That's not an answer, Castle. At least, it's not the kind of answer you know I'm going to accept."

He nods and then clears his throat. "I'm eager to get on with my life, Kate. I want to do things that make me happy. I've wasted too much time on relationships, decisions, even characters that brought me no joy. Or worse, that brought me misery." He takes a step closer to her, lowering his voice as an excitable group of Ryan's cousins runs past. " _You_ bring me joy."

Kate looks at her shoes and smiles. When she looks up, she says, "Castle, you know I can't be bought with a car."

He nods. "I do know that, yes."

She tugs on his lapel before smoothing it back down. "And you know you don't have to buy a car to⏤" She bites her lip and her lashes flutter. "To have me. Castle, you already have me."

He looks so serious and then faintly annoyed when he glances to the left and says, "Sorority sisters at your four o'clock or I would be kissing you senseless right now."

Kate laughs, and it's the kind of bent double, full eyes and teeth kind of laugh he loves to see and loves, even more, to have caused.

Once the young women have passed by in a cloud of sweet perfume and floral dresses, Castle offers Kate his arm. "Care to join me inside, detective? I believe we have a wedding to attend."

"It would be my honor, Mr. Castle," she replies.

They giggle and sigh to themselves as they follow the chattering crowd inside, Kate with her hand tucked into the crook of Castle's arm and his hand resting on top.

"Your hands are cold," he says, as they climb the front steps and enter the drafty rear of the church.

Kate rubs her hands together and makes a face. "Damn. I left my wrap in the car."

"Wait there. Don't move from that spot. I'll be right back," Castle promises before dashing off.

Her expression is so adorable that he doesn't mind returning to the car they just left in the schoolyard not minutes before to fetch her pashmina.

He searches the inside of the Bentley first, but the silk wrap is nowhere to be found. When he pops the trunk, he is surprised to find an overnight bag stowed inside. The pearl gray pashmina is neatly folded on top. Beneath the wrap, he can see her makeup bag, a pair of shoes, and a change of clothes are also tucked inside. His heart starts to beat a little faster. He doesn't know what this discovery means, but he knows what he wants it to mean.

" _You're not the only one with dreams, you know," s_ he had said to him yesterday, right after he proposed. He tried last night, down by the Hudson River, but he never got a chance to ask her what she meant, what her own dreams are.

On impulse, he pulls out his cell phone and makes a call.

 _TBC..._

* * *

 _A/N: Thank you lovely people. I'm glad everyone else seems to enjoy a slow burn. I can rush to the end, but then it would be over and where's the fun in that, right? Liv_


	9. Chapter 9

_Previously..._

 _"Your hands are cold," he says, as they climb the front steps and enter the drafty rear of the church._

 _Kate rubs her hands together and makes a face. "Damn. I left my wrap in the car."_

 _"Wait there. Don't move from that spot. I'll be right back," Castle promises before dashing off._

 _Her expression is so adorable that he doesn't mind returning to the car they just left in the schoolyard not minutes before to fetch her pashmina._

 _He searches the inside of the Bentley first, but the silk wrap is nowhere to be found. When he pops the trunk, he is surprised to find an overnight bag stowed inside. The pearl gray pashmina is neatly folded on top. Beneath the wrap, he can see her makeup bag, a pair of shoes, and a change of clothes are also tucked inside. His heart starts to beat a little faster. He doesn't know what this discovery means, but he knows what he wants it to mean._

 _"You're not the only one with dreams, you know," she had said to him yesterday, right after he proposed. He tried last night, down by the Hudson River, but he never got a chance to ask her what she meant, what her own dreams are._

 _On impulse, he pulls out his cell phone and makes a call_.

* * *

He makes a second phone call, far shorter than the first, then he grabs Kate's wrap, slams the trunk lid, locks the car, and makes a beeline for St. Teresa's church.

He's jogging up the front walk when he catches a glimpse of his partner, _his partner_ , Kate Beckett, and it almost overwhelms him: that singular truth and the heady rush that comes with it. Kate Beckett, who once wanted him gone, is now his partner, and they've got four solid years under their belt. What's more, he proposed to her yesterday evening and she didn't say no!

 _You've already got me, Castle._

 _I just want you._

With these words whispering in his ear, he slows down to a fast walk trying to regain some dignity, taking the moment of his approach to watch Kate unobtrusively as she chats to a woman in a large hat who Castle doesn't recognize. When Kate turns towards the open doors, so obviously seeking him out, she looks lit up from the inside the instant they reconnect. She's smiling at him with everything she has, her face so luminous he'd believe Tinker Bell had taken up residence behind her eyes.

Eager to be back by her side, he abandons any pretense of playing it cool to take the steps two at a time.

Once he reaches her, her body language seems strangely invigorated; she bounces on her sexy high heels in front of him like an excited puppy. "I thought you got lost," she says, beaming at him with delight now that he is newly 'found.' If this is what wedding fever does to Detective Beckett, they need to find new friends who're on the cusp of getting married. Or maybe they should just...

Castle cautions himself to get a grip, slow things back down, but try as he might the other guests are forgotten as they stand there smiling at one another, a pulsating aura of energy surrounding them. It's so palpable that anyone watching would be able to see it for themselves if they knew them well enough.

Seconds tick past. Kate chews on her lip and her eyes flicker off and on to his mouth. Finally, Castle thinks, "Screw it." He can't hold his joy inside any longer. "I really wish I could kiss you right now," he says. "You're glowing, Kate." Rashly, he darts in to kiss her on the cheek before handing over the pashmina.

When she smiles at him this time - Wow! She's so radiant he feels like he could measure her luminescence with a Geiger counter.

"Thanks." Her eyes sparkle as she surreptitiously smoothes the back of her hand down the front of his silk tie; the tie she helped him pick out this morning. "You look good, too." She hooks a finger into his belt loop and tugs playfully, causing him to stumble into her and catch hold of her by her waist.

Castle laughs in surprise that she would do something so playful and flirtatious in public. "Hey, careful. I almost stepped on your toes."

Kate tuts and shakes her head at him. "Oh, no. You do _not_ want to do that. There will be dancing later. And once everyone is drunk they're not gonna care that you're all up in my space, putting your hands all over me, see? So you'd better not make me lame before the music starts."

Castle is delighted by her plan and by her light, teasing mood. "I like your thinking, detective. And just where are _your_ hands in this scenario?" His eyes twinkle as he builds on her fantasy.

Kate smiles coyly. Her expression says she knows some big secret and for once is just dying to share it with him. She crooks her finger to beckon him closer. When he's as close as they can allow themselves in this crowd, she whispers, "I'd say that my hands will most definitely be⏤"

Before she can finish the thought, Ryan skids across the marble floor outside the sacristy almost crashing into them. They quickly move apart. "Priest's ready," he rushes out breathlessly, dancing on the spot like a boxer while he bobs and weaves to look above the heads of the milling guests. "Have either of you seen Jenny? I'm worried she's changed her mind."

Castle glances at Kate and they exchange a flicker of amusement that Kevin thankfully fails to pick up on.

"She'll be here, Kevin," Kate promises, patting his shoulder. "Jenny's a lucky lady."

"Yeah, anyone can see you two are made for each other," Castle agrees. "We could see it the first time we saw you together. Right, Kate?" he says, enlisting her help in calming down the jumpy detective.

"Right. Made for each other," Kate repeats, but she's looking at Castle, not at Kevin Ryan.

Castle freezes. Why did he not see this before? She loves him. She's still staring right at him, such a soft longing in her eyes, and now he's pretty sure that she's in love with him.

He's is forced to pull himself together when Esposito appears to take Ryan inside. Word has reached him via the covert network that is Jenny's sorority sisters that the bridal party has arrived; they have to take their places.

"You two okay?" Espo asks, looking from Kate to Castle and back again.

"Hm?" Kate hums vaguely, finally dragging her eyes off Castle's face to look at Esposito. It's almost as if she's coming out of a trance: she draws a breath through her nose and suddenly stands tall, rolling her shoulders and shaking out her arms.

Esposito regards them suspiciously when he says, "You didn't fall out or nothing since we left you guys in the parking lot?"

Castle shakes his head as if the idea is ridiculous – which it is – but he still manages to look guilty because this is Espo, the big brother cop, questioning him. "Fall out? Us? Nah. We're good. Aren't we, Beckett?"

Kate's eyebrows rise in amusement on "Beckett" but she holds her tongue. "We're great." She shoos the boys away. "Better get him inside before the bride gets here."

Because he smells a rat, Esposito watches them a moment longer before he grasps Ryan by the shoulders and steers him into the back of the church.

Once they are alone again, they drift back together, like leaves simultaneously floating downstream, always finding one another despite the current.

"So, this is more difficult than I thought," Kate admits. She glances off to the side to see who might be watching them.

"Difficult?" Castle says, looking for clarification.

"Yeah. Coming here together, pretending as if nothing has changed between us? Ryan never even batted an eye."

"I think that guy's got more on his mind at the moment. Lanie and Espo certainly noticed." He pauses for a second before correcting himself. "Well, Lanie did."

"Castle," Kate murmurs in a low, for-his-ears-only warning when she feels his fingers graze her own, seeking, a mere second before he secretly takes her hand.

"What?" he replies with all the innocence and nonchalance he alone is capable of after four decades of living in close quarters with Martha.

"Stop!" she insists through the warm glow of flushed cheeks and an unstoppable, girlish grin.

Castle sighs, theatrically, of course, and begins the slow, exaggerated drama of removing his hand.

"Don't stop," she hisses impulsively in the next second, trapping his fingers with her own before he can completely take his hand away when she realizes that her panic over someone seeing them holding hands is far outmatched by the greater panic that he will pull away completely.

They look at one another, standing side-by-side in a beautiful church, all dressed up, flowers pinned to their clothes. The scent of peonies surrounds them, candles flicker nearby; the setting is impossibly romantic. Kate licks her lips before she looks him in the eye and says, "Castle, no matter what, please, don't ever stop."

A string quartet strikes up before Castle can untangle his brain and tongue to reply. Suddenly, the guests who've been lingering in the back of the church all around them begin pushing forward to take their seats.

Kate makes a move to follow the other guests inside, but Castle takes her elbow and turns her back, guiding her out of the flow of people.

She looks at him in surprise. "What? We have to go in. Jenny will be here soon."

"Why are we waiting, Kate?" Castle asks earnestly, blue eyes boring into hers now that they find themselves once more under an impossible time crunch. "And what are we waiting for? Tomorrow? Next year? Another sign from the universe?"

Kate glances outside through the open doors of the church to where she can see Jenny in her white gown being helped out of her wedding car as her bridesmaids and flower girls assemble alongside. She glances back inside the church, down the aisle to where she can see Kevin waiting nervously beside Esposito. "Castle, this is their big day," she says, though any conviction in her voice is weak.

She is open to persuasion. Castle can hear it in her tone and see it in her eyes. He is good at persuasion, he is a _master_ of persuasion, in fact, and with Kate Beckett, he's had plenty of practice over the years.

He takes both of her hands in his own, lightly squeezing her fingers as if in time with his pulse. "So we keep it quiet. Just for today. But please, Kate, say yes?"

He watches so many emotions fly across her face: surprise, shock, fear, amusement, the fight or flight of possibility. He believes he can see love, yearning, and desire in her eyes, too.

He moves closer, a renewed urgency in his voice. "Look, I don't care if you heard me before. I'm telling you now so that you can hear me clearly and know that I mean it one hundred percent. I'm in love with you, Kate. And I mean the kind of love people write songs about, the kind that lasts centuries penned in great literature. I'm more in love with you now than I've ever been in my life."

When she opens her mouth to speak he silences her with a fleeting caress of her lips.

"Just one last thing. We've known each other longer than Kevin and Jenny. Think about that. Some days I feel like I've been waiting for you my whole life. Please don't make me wait any longer. I love you, I respect you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Marry me, Kate? Please?"

The opening strains of Pachelbel's Canon in D Major begin to float from the right side of the altar where the string quartet is situated. Kate glances in panic towards the front walk of the church where Jenny is coming towards them on her father's arm. She's beaming. Two little flower girls are toddling their way up the steps, taking the treads one unsteady foot at a time while they try not to spill the contents of their white wicker baskets.

Kate turns back to look at Castle; her eyes are wide and clear. As the bridal party gets closer and the cello is joined by the joyful strains of three violins, she nods. What begins as a barely perceptible tremor becomes more certain, then vigorous and definite. As Jenny climbs the front steps of the church, Kate slips her arm into Castle's and they quickly head for the center aisle together, entering as the violins reach a joyful crescendo.

Kate catches Lanie's eye as they slide into the first open pew on the groom's side of the church and her friend gives her a beaming smile.

They have barely settled on the hard wooden bench when the guests rise to their feet as one. A hush falls over the congregation quickly followed by gasps of wonder, emotional sighs, and cries of, "Aww," as the tiny flower girls meander down the aisle carelessly dumping chubby handfuls of rose petals and occasionally pausing to smile or say hi to an amused guest.

They sit through the rest of the service in stunned silence, barely touching and yet never letting go of one another. They miss whole chunks of the mass, only registering the need to stand or kneel when the people around them stand or kneel down. They sing hymns a note or two behind, their sides pressed together as they share an order of service; everything a wonderfully colorful blur.

And somehow this is far better than dating and sleeping together, having rows and making up, though there is no doubt they will accomplish all of that in time. No proposal on Valentine's Day or New Years that feels make or break, or like a million other couples have been there before. No. This is back to front, it's original, and it's so much more them.

Castle stares at Kate in awe when she turns to him, so elegant and composed. She's smiling calmly as she slips her hand into his hand. "Peace be with you," she says, leaning close enough to graze his cheek with her lips and nudge his nose as they part. Her scent surrounds him, her perfume imprinted onto his skin, his heart pounds, his whole body shaking.

"And...and also with you," he repeats, prompted by those around him, slightly mechanical, stuttering, with eyes only for Kate.

She's still holding onto his hand when the priest announces, "I now pronounce you husband and wife." Only now there are happy tears in her eyes as the guests applaud and whistle.

"You did say yes, before?" Castle leans over to whisper. "I didn't like...imagine all of that?"

Kate squeezes his hand and takes a steadying breath. "You didn't imagine anything. I told you my dreams were the same as yours. Yes! I said yes," she whispers back, laughing beneath the cover of applause for their newly-wed friends as tears roll down her cheeks.

 _TBC..._

* * *

 _A/N: If you're not familiar, I recommend you listen to Pachelbel's Canon in D Major on YouTube. It will make your heart soar. Thank you for the lovely reviews of the last chapter. At least one more to go. Liv_


	10. Chapter 10

**Slow Burn**

 _Previously..._

Castle stares at Kate in awe when she turns to him, so elegant and composed. She's smiling calmly as she slips her hand into his hand. "Peace be with you," she says, leaning close enough to graze his cheek with her lips and nudge his nose as they part. Her scent surrounds him, her perfume imprinted onto his skin, his heart pounds, his whole body shaking.

"And...and also with you," he repeats, prompted by those around him, slightly mechanical, stuttering, with eyes only for Kate.

She's still holding onto his hand when the priest announces, "I now pronounce you husband and wife." Only now there are happy tears in her eyes as the guests applaud and whistle.

"You did say yes, before?" Castle leans over to whisper. "I didn't like...imagine all of that?"

Kate squeezes his hand and takes a steadying breath. "You didn't imagine anything. I told you my dreams were the same as yours. Yes! I said yes," she whispers back, laughing beneath the cover of applause for their newly-wed friends as tears roll down her cheeks.

* * *

 _Chapter 10_

A newly-engaged Kate and Castle rise along with everyone else to watch the newly-married Mr. & Mrs. Kevin Ryan walk back up the aisle arm-in-arm. As they pass the end of the pew, Kevin salutes Kate and sweet Jenny blows them both a kiss. The Ryans look unbelievably happy, happier than they have ever looked together and that is saying something.

This observation strikes a deep and comforting note within Kate.

She startles when she feels Castle's hand slide warmly into place against the small of her back, fitting like a notch slotting into a matching puzzle piece, and when she turns towards him he's right there, toe-to-toe with her. Without even thinking, she allows her eyes to flicker down to his mouth where they linger softly.

Castle leans in even closer, smirking when he whispers, "Yeah. My thoughts exactly," in that deep, sexy graze of a voice that makes her insides itch and that she loves but so rarely gets to hear.

He allows his own gaze to linger on Kate's lips for a second before tearing himself away. She rolls her eyes at him but can't help the smile that claims her whole face, just as one claims his.

Finally, Castle clears his throat, piercing the fog of lust that is swirling around them like incense. "So, I was thinking," he says beneath the steady soundtrack of wooden pews creaking and people greeting one another as the slow exodus of the church begins behind the bride and groom. "How about we hang back for a second, let the crush subside, the parking lot empty out a little…or a lot?" He raises his eyebrows and quickly lets them drop, his whole face sparkling with mischief.

Kate looks around them. "Castle, we're in a church. Just how much hanky-panky do you think we can get up to before God strikes us down?"

He holds up a hand. "Oh, that does not sound good. With our track record?" Then he chuckles. "On the other hand, I like where your mind went. But honestly? I only meant for us to take a quiet moment to sit, in peace, before the crazy that will be a Ryan family get together and just…process."

Kate looks vaguely embarrassed. She purses her lips, nods slowly, grasps his sleeve and pulls him back down on the bench beside her. "We can do that, too. Totally."

They sit facing the altar while everyone else heads for the rear of the church. Sunshine streams through the stained glass windows to their right, scattering fragments of light like chips of colored gemstones across the rows of pews and the marble floor. Castle takes her hand, cradling it in both of his on top of his thigh. "We just got engaged," he says reverently.

"We did," Kate agrees with a quick and nervous smile. She looks down to catch him brushing his thumb over her naked ring finger without even realizing that he's doing it.

Eventually, the church empties out. The string quartet ceases to play and the four musicians begin packing up their instruments.

Castle stops staring at their joined hands to look at her; he's so excited he feels a little queasy.

"Are you…" Kate pauses, worried by the look on his face. He seems pale, a little pinched.

"What?"

"Having second thoughts? I mean, it _is_ all kind of sudden and…" He's so quiet that she has to study him closely to try to fathom what he's thinking. "What?" she says, her head cocked to one side in concern.

Castle drops her hand and closes his eyes. He massages the bridge of his nose. "You think this is a mistake, don't you? You're regretting it already. I put you on the spot." He slaps his forehead and shifts in his seat, putting a little space between them. "I _knew_ I shouldn't have put you on the spot like that with Jenny and the little flower people storming the steps. God, will I never learn?"

Kate smiles to herself and reaches out to peel his fingers away from his face. "Rick?" she says gently. "Rick, please look at me?"

He cracks one eye open, and if this weren't such a serious moment between them she would laugh. "I regret nothing," she promises. "You may have put me on the spot, but we needed that. _I_ needed that. You stepped up, Castle. You stepped up for us. Again. You were the brave one. I was merely giving you a way out just now. In case you needed it."

He takes her hand again and holds it tightly, worrying his thumb back and forth over her knuckles. "Right before the wedding, you said to me, 'Don't ever stop.' Remember? Well, I promise I won't, not where you're concerned. I don't need a way out, Kate. I've spent the last four years trying to tunnel my way in."

Kate grasps his shoulders and pulls him into a fierce hug before she pulls back suddenly, crushing her mouth against his, needing to kiss him so badly, church or no church.

When they're finally out of oxygen, and with their foreheads resting against one another, still breathing heavily, Kate says, "You're in, Castle." She takes his hand, fingers laced with her own, and presses it over her heart. "You're already in. Right here."

Castle's eyes are wide, pupils blown like brown M&Ms, but he gathers his wits to nod and eventually smile to make sure she knows that he understands the enormity of what she's saying. With her heart pounding under his palm he can think of nothing eloquent to offer in return, and he doesn't trust himself to speak without his voice breaking in any case, so he simply kisses her on the cheek and nods again.

One look is all it takes for Kate to realize how overwhelmed he is, and for the first time, she can truly see that this is it for him, just as it is for her. There will be no more fresh starts for Richard Castle after this one; they are each other's one and done from now on.

Kate holds out her hand and stands up, her face brightening as she pulls them both to their feet. "Come on. We've got some wedding ideas to steal."

* * *

They are alone in the church as they edge their way out of the narrow pew. Castle's large feet catch the padded kneeler every few penguin steps. Try as he might he kicks the final hinge as they reach the center aisle.

"I'm sure they built these things when people were smaller," he grumbles to the accompaniment of a woody boom that echoes throughout the empty chapel.

Kate laughs. "This place was built in the 50s, Castle. Just how much smaller do you think people were back then?"

"Hey, we're on Staten Island, Beckett. Land of the leprechaun," he jokes.

"Don't let any of Ryan's cousins hear you say that. Have you seen the size of Big Mo?"

"Oh, I see how it is. Not five minutes engaged and already she's giving out orders." He laughs and tries to dodge out of the way when Kate swats him on the arm.

He's still grinning when he turns away from the altar to follow Kate out of the church just as a shaft of light suddenly beams down from a circular window set high in the chapel wall. The sunlight catches one corner of the tabernacle, sparking fire off the ornate gold box like a struck flint. While wincing at the blinding flash of light, it's as if Castle is struck by an epiphany: Kate's wall has come down. All these months he's waited, sometimes fearing he was doing so in vain. Today, he finally has his answer: her wall has come crashing down and he is on the inside surveying the newly liberated terrain with her. The world is theirs for the taking; love, life, and adventures await.

Impulsively, he grabs her hand as they emerge into the vestibule of the church.

Kate turns to look at him. "You ready?" she asks with a big smile.

He squeezes her hand. "With you by my side? Beckett, I'm ready for anything."

* * *

They bump shoulders as they happily trot down the front steps together. There are tight-knit little huddles of invited guests and a few nosy passers-by still lingering in the shade outside. But as they turn to take the path that leads to the schoolyard next door where they've left their car, they instinctively drop hands and move apart.

" _Finally!_ " Esposito yells, easing up off the Bentley's trunk where he was lounging, jacket off and tie already loosened. "You making confession in there or somethin', Castle? We guessed it must be you because it was taking so long." He laughs. Loudly.

Castle's eyes cut to Kate. She's still smiling, but he can tell that it's a little forced.

"I told you we should have called a damn cab," Lanie chides Esposito when she sees the look on her friends' faces. They were hoping for some alone time. Now Lanie feels sick about crashing their ride to the reception.

"Nonsense. We wouldn't dream of letting you take a cab when our Bentley awaits," Castle gallantly insists, sweeping his arm towards the car like Vanna White. "Right, Beckett?"

"I call shotgun!" Espo declares, racing for the passenger door before anyone else can claim it.

Kate shrugs at Castle who is already looking to her for guidance. "Lanie and I will ride in the back. You drive."

"Are you sure?" Castle asks quietly, using his body to shield her from prying eyes.

"I'm sure." She touches his tie. "We have…the rest of forever to ride around together. We can do this today. Drive. Have fun."

"Are you dropping the hood on this thing, or what?" Esposito asks impatiently.

Standing to one side, Lanie watches Castle and Beckett interact, a sly smile spreading over her face at what she sees.

* * *

"How are things with you and writer boy?" Lanie asks not five minutes later once they're on their way to the hotel where the reception is being held, Lady Gaga's _The Edge of Glory_ blasting from the sound system shielding their conversation from the boys up front.

Kate glances over at Lanie, feeling slightly panicked inside.

 _There ain't no reason you and me should be alone  
Tonight yeah baby, tonight yeah baby  
But I got a reason that you-hoo should take me home tonight._

"Good," Kate says, trying not to listen to the words of the song, or think about tonight, as she sticks to their agreement to let Kevin and Jenny bask in the celebration of their big day before making any announcement of their own.

 _I'm on the edge of glory and I'm hangin' on a moment of truth.  
Out on the edge of glory and I'm hangin' on a moment with you._

Lanie nods, and Kate feels the warm rush of relief that her friend appears satisfied with her answer and will, therefore, make no push to pry about what went on inside the church and why they lingered there for so long by themselves.

"So, you're not going to tell me," Lanie says primly as Lady Gaga sings on.

 _It's time to feel the rush to push the dangerous.  
I'm gonna run right to, to the edge with you  
Where we'll both fall far in love._

Kate catches Castle's eye in the rear-view mirror, trying to telegraph an apology when she replies, "We're good, Lanie. Really. Nothing to tell."

* * *

When they pull up in front of the hotel, Castle leaves the keys to the car with the valet and they all head inside. Kate holds back so that they can walk in together. But Castle is slow to climb the front steps, and Kate notices.

"Everything okay?" she asks when he reaches her side.

He looks over his shoulder one more time, and then he glances down at his phone. "Uh…"

"Castle?"

He turns to look at her, faking his 'everything's fine' face. "Everything's fine," he says, words that instantly tell her it isn't.

Eyes narrowed, Kate watches him a moment longer before she nods. "Okay. You happy to go inside? I want to see what table they've put us on. I have a sneaking suspicion they might have split us up."

When Castle hears something about matchmaking and separate tables, she finally gets his attention. "Say what now?"

She smiles sweetly. "Oh, I see how it is. Not five minutes engaged and already he's stopped listening to me," she says, teasing him with a recycling of his earlier joke.

Castle is right in front of her in a flash. "Did you just say something about Ryan splitting us up so that we can get it on with other people? People he and Jenny _chose_?"

"Well, I didn't use those exact words but⏤"

He takes her elbow and leads her inside. "I am _moving_ place cards around if I have to. You be the lookout, and I'll do the dirty work. We are enjoying this meal together, Kate. I am not sitting on the other side of the table, or worse, several tables away, watching my _fiancé_ being chatted up by some Neanderthal fireman from Yonkers."

Kate bursts out laughing.

"What?" Castle demands, all steamed up at the very thought.

She smooths the lapel of his jacket while, inside, her heart is racing. "Going all caveman on me, Castle?" she asks as coolly as she can muster.

 _She really is his fiancé and he is hers!_

"Caveman, Batman." He shrugs. "I don't care. We are sitting together. Come on. Let's fix this injustice."

Out of the corner of her eye, Kate spies a familiar flash of red, just as Castle takes her arm and hurries her inside the cool shade of the lobby.

"Did I just⏤" She throws out her arm to point. "I think I just saw Alexis," she says, twisting back to look over her shoulder towards the sunlit front porch of the hotel.

 _TBC..._

* * *

 _A/N: It's coming together slowly, I know, just like the title. It's this summer weather. What can you_ do? _Guaranteed when I'm not writing it, I'm thinking about it. Hope the weather is nice where you are, too. And thank you for the lovely reviews, Liv_


	11. Chapter 11

**_Slow Burn_**

 _Chapter 11_

With gentle pressure to the lower curve of her spine Castle guides Kate further along the hallway away from the hotel's front doors. He looks over his shoulder, just once to be sure, nods and discreetly holds up one finger.

It's a brief exchange, but she gets it; his daughter always gets it.

Kate twists her body, trying to look around as she says, "I could have sworn I saw Alexis."

But Castle slides his arm around her waist, distracting her with this bold and possessive gesture, and it's unexpected enough that it throw her off the scent. "Let's go find that seating chart, and then I need to visit the little boy's room," he says.

Kate smiles at him affectionately. "What?" he asks, grinning back at her.

She doesn't tell him that for once the words "little boy's room" have not stirred images of pungent urinals and toilet stalls with the seats flipped up, but a white crib with a pale blue mobile suspended above, tinkling as it turns to the strains of a lullaby; a closet full of tiny clothes on tiny hangers; a white bookcase full of "Corduroy," "Peter Rabbit," and "Goodnight Moon"; a baby's name spelled out on the door in pastel-colored wooden letters.

 _Their baby._

She shakes her head. "Nothing. Let's go do some reconnaissance."

They find the seating plan posted on a large board outside the reception hall.

Castle jabs a finger at the sign almost knocking it off its easel. "There!"

"Oh, thank God," Kate says. "We're on the same table."

He frowns and peers closer. "Mm. But we're not seated together. Okay, time for Operation Plus One. Follow my lead. And bring your best poker face."

Castle takes off before Kate can stop him. He fishes a twenty out of his wallet, approaching a young waiter with the bribe. "Hey, buddy. Table five. I need you to make sure that Kate Beckett is sitting next to Richard Castle. I don't care who you have to move to do it, just make it happen. Understand?"

The young guy hesitates, caught like a deer in the headlights by the unexpected request. Frantically, he looks around to see if his boss is watching when Castle presses the money into his damp palm. The writer points at Kate across the hall. As instructed, she doesn't smile back. She is inscrutable; this is her poker face. "See her? She's a cop. Manhattan homicide," he says when the waiter holds back. "Don't let me down... _Chad_ ," he reads off the guy's badge. "Or they will _never_ find your body. Capeesh? Now go!"

Kate crosses her arms and rolls her eyes when Castle comes sauntering back to her. "Looks like you scared the hell out of that kid." When he opens his mouth to explain, she holds up her hand. "Don't tell me. I'm a cop. I need to maintain at least some vestige of plausible deniability."

"He needed toughening up. Kids today are too soft. Now, I'm off to the⏤"

"Little boy's room. Yeah, you said. I'll get us a glass of champagne. Meet you in the bar."

* * *

As soon as Kate's back is turned, Castle hustles out to the lobby where Alexis is loitering behind a large potted plant. The disguise is poor; her red hair stands out a mile between the Kelly green fronds. But, thankfully, Kate has gone the other way and everyone else is too busy hobnobbing to notice.

"Do you think she saw me?" Alexis asks her dad. "I thought for a second I'd been made."

Castle kisses his daughter on the cheek and relieves her of the bag she's carrying. "Been made?" He laughs. "Well, someone's been spending too much time with the NYPD."

Alexis smirks. "Yeah, dad, and I don't think that someone is me."

Castle briefly looks inside the bag. "Thanks for bringing this. Seriously, you're the best."

Alexis shrugs. "Who else would you have as your wingman?"

"And that will never change," Castle assures her, giving her a parting hug.

"Enjoy the wedding reception. Give Kevin and Jenny my love. And I hope everything goes well later." She gives her dad a wink.

Castle nods, his heart full to overflowing with love for the special women in his life. "This will be the icing on the cake, so to speak. She already said yes! Can you believe that?"

Alexis hugs him even tighter. "Congratulations! How could she not, dad? You guys are made for each other. Anyone can see that." She squeezes his hand and begins to back away, thumbing over her shoulder. "I'd better go. My Uber is waiting. And you should go back inside before Kate gets suspicious."

"You're the best, pumpkin. I love you," Castle says, blowing her a kiss as he hurries away.

* * *

Kate is looking for him when he practically jogs back into the lobby bar a few minutes later. A bead of sweat runs down his back between his shoulder blades. He whips a white handkerchief out of his pocket to dab his top lip.

"I thought you'd got lost. Again," she says, handing him a glass of Champagne. Her glass is already drained to halfway.

"There was a line for the bathroom if you can believe." She doesn't. Castle is definitely up to something, though she isn't sure what.

"Cheers!" they say to one another, clinking glasses with secret smiles and dancing eyes.

Castle leans in to whisper in her ear and Kate curls around him, shivering when his lips graze her jaw and it tickles. "Here's to us," he says under his breath as she touches her fingers to his ribcage beneath his jacket, getting a thrill from allowing herself this secret pleasure while everyone else is still in the dark.

She catches his cuff as they straighten up, sliding her index finger up along the soft skin beneath his wrist. "To us," she mouths, watching Castle's eyes darken at her touch.

Suddenly, it's all too much: her touch, the smoldering looks, holding everything inside after so long. He's all out of patience for secrecy and decorum, especially with her. He takes her by the hand and drags her off to the darkest corner he can find in the bar.

"I want us to start with our honeymoon tonight."

Kate's mouth falls open but no words come out. "I… _what?_ " she eventually gasps.

He moves even closer so that their bodies are just barely touching. "You're right. I wasn't delayed in a line at the bathroom just now. I lied."

She crosses her arms. "Original way to start off a marriage. Go on."

"I was… _organizing_ things."

"What things?"

He bats the question away. "Okay, so hear me out before you say no. Promise?"

Kate looks dubious. She narrows her eyes.

"Promise, Beckett. Come on. You have to promise," he wheedles.

She smiles indulgently and holds out her little finger. "Pinkie swear."

Castle hooks his little finger around Kate's and they grin at one another. "Pinkie swearing, Beckett. Badass. I love it."

"Okay, I swore your little oath. Now share," she says with faux exasperation.

Castle takes a couple of deep breaths to psych himself up. When he's pumped, he goes for it. "I want us…to have our honeymoon tonight." He holds up a hand to silence her objection. "I know it sounds a little crazy, but what do you say, Kate? Honeymoon with me?"

Kate bursts out laughing, but her face shines with a burning desire to say yes. Instead, her mouth says, "You're so right. It does sound crazy." She pokes him in the shoulder. " _You_ sound crazy, Castle."

"And you love that about me," he persists, standing his ground with this daring reminder.

Kate's cheeks are flushed and her eyes are shining when she nods and says, "I do. Yes. Among other things."

"Good," he says, trying to center himself again. "That's good." He takes another deep breath. "So I took a leaf out of the kids' book."

She frowns, not understanding the reference. "Kids? What kids?"

"The hoodies. From last night. Down by the river. I got us a room."

She releases a disbelieving burst of laughter. "You got us a room? So some...some...hooligans tell you to get a room and you...you got us a room?"

"Yeah, and not just any room." Castle puffs out his chest. "Can you believe this hotel has _two_ honeymoon suites?"

Kate chuckles and shakes her head at him. "Castle, no hotel has two honeymoon suites. That's just not…no."

"Okay. So that part was a lie, I will admit."

Her eyebrows rise and she says, "Another lie? Oh, great. This is really shaping up well." But she takes a sip of champagne and gestures for him to keep talking, that she's prepared to hear him out.

"I went to talk to reception about booking us a room for the night."

Kate can't believe what she's hearing. "You? Oh, _wow!_ "

Castle ignores her surprise. Being brave has got him this far in the last twenty-four hours, so he's doing this. "Anyway, turns out Ryan was too cheap to stump up for the honeymoon suite and it was just sitting there empty, so…"

"So…? You thought you'd book it for us? Castle," she hisses, "we're not even married. We haven't even…" Her eyes widen and she looks around to see who might be listening in to their conversation. She lowers her voice to whisper, "Slept together."

"Don't I know it!" he declares, earning himself a hard stare from Kate. "But that's the best part."

She frowns because she doesn't understand his logic. "It is?"

"Or it's why this makes so much sense."

Kate is dubious, but she finds herself wanting him to persuade her; she needs the story only he can tell. "Okay, I'm giving you some latitude here, Castle, But you're gonna have to enlighten me."

He takes her hand, holding it low between them so that no one else can see. "We're topsy-turvy, you and I. Always have been. We do everything backward. You started out hating me, Kate, instead of waiting until we're out on the porch in our rockers and I'm grinding my teeth or chewing with my mouth open. We're topsy-turvy, upside down, and I love you so much that some days it hurts to look at you. So I figure, let's start out with the honeymoon suite before any more craziness steps in our path or gets in the way. What do you say?"

Bravely, he holds onto her hand and waits. When she eventually rolls her eyes and nods, he hands their Champagne glasses off to a passing waiter and takes off, leading her after him.

"What? We're going now? They haven't even started the reception yet," she protests.

"No, not now. I want to find somewhere private so I can kiss you. But I'm having your luggage sent up to the room."

Kate pulls him to a halt, forcing him to turn around to face her. She frowns and cocks her head, placing a staying hand on his chest. "My luggage?"

"Yeah, I found the overnight bag you stashed in the trunk of the Bentley. Should've given me a little heads up and I'd have had more time to do the same. God, I love saying that. Stashed in the Bentley," he repeats to himself. "We sound like Parker and Lady Penelope."

"I think that was a Rolls-Royce," Kate corrects. "Anyway, my bag was there so that I could change into this dress after I was done with my paperwork at the precinct this morning, not because I planned on staying the night."

The air goes still.

"Oh." Castle's face falls. He lets go of her hand. "Oh, God, I'm…sorry. I'm doing it again. I'm getting ahead of myself, putting the damn cart before the horse." He deflates, shoulders slumping, defeat snatched from the jaws of victory.

Kate watches him for a second, pouting like a petulant little boy. He's adorable. She makes him wait a little longer before she smirks and says, "Or the Bentley before the wedding rings and the apartment and the myriad other things people usually do in these situations."

Castle slowly lifts his head. She's not yelling, or slapping him, or running away. She's teasing him. He sees a chink of light in the darkness, and this reenergizes him. "But we're not other people, Kate," he hastens to point out.

She nods soberly. "No. That's true. We're not."

"So…is that a yes?"

After a beat or two of indecision, Kate nods helplessly because how could she not when this wonderful man is the one doing the asking. "I guess, it's a yes, Castle." But before he can jump off the deep end she holds up a finger. "With one caveat."

He's practically vibrating with joy and excitement that she said yes. "Name it. You want the Bentley? Whatever it is, you can have it."

"We give the honeymoon suite to Kevin and Jenny, and we take whatever suite they have booked."

He pauses, and a slow, sexy grin blossoms on his face. "Deal," he says softly, so proud of her and so proud of himself for falling in love with such a gorgeous human being. "I will go and sort that out right now."

"Before you do." She grasps his wrist and pulls him close to her. "Come here."

She ducks her head, kissing him swiftly and softly before he or anyone else is aware that it's happening. Then she straightens his tie and pats his chest. "Now you can go. And don't come back without a couple more glasses of Champagne. We're celebrating, remember?" she says, offering him her warmest smile, the one that makes his heart ache and sing in equal measure, the smile she saves for him alone, the smile that says, "I'm yours and hurry back because I want you by my side."

Castle has to clench his hands into fists to stop himself from reaching for her and just making out with her in the middle of the bar. He returns her dazzling smile before he speedwalks off down the hallway to sort out their room.

Kate is standing in a corner humming to herself when she hears a woman slow tutting behind her. She turns at the sound to find Lanie standing by her elbow. Like Kate, she's looking out across the bar. "So, you and writer boy. Still just 'good,' huh?" she says. "You sure there's nothing new you want to tell me?"

 _TBC..._

* * *

 _A/N: Happy there are still people enjoying this story. Reports of its imminent conclusion seem to have been a false alarm. Thank you to the kind souls who continue to review. Liv_


	12. Chapter 12

**_Slow Burn_**

 _Chapter 12_

Kate stops humming to herself and her spine stiffens at the sound of Lanie's voice. She paints on a smile before she slowly turns towards her friend. All she can think as she looks at Lanie is that this is _their thing_ , hers and Castle's, for now at least. She feels protective of it, wants to guard it selfishly. She doesn't want to lose the special feeling that they are in this exclusively now, not when it's still so nascent and so hard won.

So she lies to her friend.

She lies to her friend and, even though it's only by admission, she hates doing it. But she and Castle have an agreement: they're not about to usurp Kevin and Jenny on their big day, to overshadow their joyful celebration as will surely happen if the writer and the detective announce their own happy news. More importantly, she realizes for the first time that she is not willing to decide this for Castle on the spur of the moment, or because her friend has her cornered. They are a couple now, an _engaged_ couple. Couples decide things together.

Her heart beats faster as she allows herself to experience what all of this does to her body, how exciting, how freeing, how much future lies ahead for them. She feels greedy for it as much as she fears breaking it or having it broken for her by outside forces. She's loved before, she's been here before, this is her greatest fear, the one that has held her back from forging a serious lasting bond with any man since her mother was ripped out of her life.

Kate can only hope that this rush of emotion isn't showing on her face when she breezily says, "Hey, Lanie," trying first to take the simplest way out: by ignoring her friend's questions altogether. "Didn't see you there."

This tactic doesn't work. Lanie has her detective radar pinging and she's determined to find the source of the intrigue.

"I'll bet. Mm-hm," she mutters, her tone full of sass. "So what gives? Writer boy drop to one knee since the last time we spoke? You two looked awful cosy just now."

With the smile practically tattooed to her face by this point, Kate says, "We're talking. And more to the point, we're having fun. How about you? How are you and Javi doing?" She dodges around Lanie to scope out the bar and the hallway beyond on the pretense of looking for Esposito when in truth she's looking for Castle. "Where did he get to anyway?"

Lanie smirks. "Who? Javier or Rick?"

"Either? Both?" Kate fans herself. The bar is hot and crowded, but she's also feeling the heat of self-loathing because she hates keeping her friend in the dark. "I could really do with another drink."

"I'll bet you could," Lanie says with a sly tone.

This pushes her buttons and Kate finally succumbs. She takes the bait and then kicks herself for doing so. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Kate Beckett, I am your best friend. I know you, girl. Now, are you gonna spill what's being going on with you and Castle? Or do I have to get Javier to torture it out of him?"

Kate finally resorts to a blatant lie. "Nothing's going on," she insists, with her fingers crossed behind her back. "We're enjoying each other's company, that's all."

"You're honestly telling me that Richard Castle hasn't mentioned marriage once since you came to see me last night? How is that even possible? The man has zero self-restraint."

Kate's mouth falls open and she stumbles over what to say. Defending her secret fiancé is the instinct that kicks in. "Castle has self-restraint. He does," she insists when Lanie rolls her eyes. "When it counts."

"Mm." Lanie makes a grudging sound of agreement. "Well, I guess he managed to hold back for four years while you flirted with him and paraded your boyfriends in and out. I will give him that."

Kate is shocked by the bluntness of her friend's assessment, however accurate it may be. "Lanie!" she exclaims.

Before either woman can say another word, Castle reappears with a smile a mile wide and a glass of Champagne in each hand. And now he's the one who is happily humming. He hands a glass to Kate, sharing a brief, questioning and naturally telepathic look with her, before offering the second glass to Lanie. When the M.E. refuses, Castle gladly takes a sip for himself, but not before clinking his glass against Kate's in a wordless, private toast.

Lanie watches them making eye contact over the rims of their glasses of bubbly. The shared exchange is significant and exclusive. She shakes her head, mutters something about "eye sex," makes a huffing sound then departs under the pretext of going to find Esposito.

"I think they're about to call us into dinner," Castle calls after her. "See you inside." He turns to Kate, baffled. "Did I offend her? Or…did I interrupt something?"

Kate leans into his side, releasing a long sigh. "She knows something's up. She grilled me about us. When I wouldn't give up our secret, she went in a mood. Don't sweat it. We're doing the right thing." She bumps Castle's shoulder. "Besides, I'm enjoying having this time to ourselves while we're the only ones who know."

"So today's lesson is that some secrets can be good secrets?" Castle asks.

Kate ponders his statement for a second before she grins and says, "Only if you share them with me."

Castle touches the rim of his glass to Kate's for the second time. "You've absolutely got yourself a deal, future Mrs. Richard Castle."

Kate says nothing, but her eyes are shining when he turns to look at her. "Too much?" he asks uncertainly.

She shakes her head but doesn't speak. Her top lip is trapped between her teeth. Castle strokes her wrist by keeping his glass close to hers. "Everything okay? You okay, Kate?"

She nods, her throat still too choked to speak.

"Talk to me, Beckett?" Castle pleads. "Is it the Mrs. Richard Castle thing? That was dumb. I'm sorry. You're a homicide detective and a feminist. Of course, you're not going to take my name. This isn't 17th Century England. You're not my property."

Finally, Kate swipes at a tear and gulps enough air to say something. "It's not about taking your name, Castle. I'll take your name. In our private lives at least. I'd be honored to."

For a moment, Castle is awestruck. He struggles to respond, choked just as Kate had been, but then curiosity and concern get the better of him. "Then what? I've clearly upset you."

Kate reaches out to skim his arm, shaking her head as she does so. "No, Rick. No. You haven't upset me. I'm just…" She laughs at how ridiculous she's being, how emotional. "I'm happy," she admits with a shrug and something of an embarrassed smile. "You make me happy."

Before Castle can gather his wits to reply, a member of hotel staff is ringing a little brass bell to get their attention. The noise is insistent and irritating as a wasp. "Ladies and gentleman, if you wouldn't mind making your way into the dining room and taking your seats. The bride and groom would like you to join them for dinner."

The bar dissolves into the happy chaos of people cheering at mention of the newly-married Ryans before the stampede to find their places in the large function room full of tables ensues. They are the only people who remain still amid the chattering, moving mass.

Castle takes Kate's champagne glass and gently sets it down on the bar along with his own, then he takes her by the hand and leads her off into a corner where they are partially concealed behind a pillar.

He slides his arm around her waist and draws her closer. "You make me so far beyond happy, Kate," he tells her earnestly. "Seriously. You have no idea how happy you make me."

Kate smiles and leans into his embrace. She loops her arms around his neck while everyone else is too preoccupied to care. "I'm starting to understand," she says, nodding. "I feel it, too. I do."

"Practicing your lines already?" Castle points out with a wiggle of his eyebrows and a cheeky grin.

She laughs when she smacks his chest, but he only holds her tighter.

Kate gazes up at his face, allowing herself a moment to roam over its familiar contours and lines without fear of being caught staring or called out for enjoying him. "Let's not wait too long," she says, surprising the heck out of Castle and maybe even surprising herself a little.

He scrambles to reply. "I'm with you one hundred percent on that one." Then he pretends to look past her, dodging his head back and forth, rising on his tiptoes. "You think the priest is still here?"

Kate laughs. "There's free food and drink, I'm guessing that's a yes."

"So, we go find him and…"

Kate pats his chest. "Slow your roll, cowboy. We agreed. Give Kevin and Jenny their day. Then…when the dust has settled and we have some time to talk about how we want this to go, we can have ours."

"How long does dust take to settle?"

"Not long," Kate says seriously. "I promise. Not long. Okay?"

Castle nods even as he sighs long and hard. "Okay."

They turn to leave, but Kate stops them when a thought occurs to her. "Wait. Did you fix the room?"

Castle's face breaks into a grin. "That's what I came rushing in here to tell you. But then Lanie was giving me evils so I couldn't. It's all arranged. Kev and Jenny get the bridal suite and we're in the Presidential Suite. Though I'm pretty sure no president has ever stayed in a hotel on Staten Island."

Kate laughs. "You did a good thing. They'll be thrilled by the upgrade. What better way to spend their honeymoon night."

"Or ours," he adds, eyebrows dancing. "Speaking of the bride and groom, we should go in. You don't want to miss Kev's big entrance."

But Kate holds Castle firmly in place. "Not before I do this." She closes her eyes, tilts her head slightly and leans in just a fraction more, brushing her lips gently over his, breathing softly, not quite a kiss more of a suggestion.

Castle's arms tighten around her in response, pulling her flush against him. His body feels muscular, hard and solid against hers, and the flash of arousal this causes catches her unawares. When she hears him sigh so wistfully at this almost kiss, she throws decorum to the wind and rises on her heels, winding her arms more tightly around his neck, opening her mouth to tease him with the tip of her tongue. This time he grunts, darting his tongue out to stroke against hers. A handful of pounding heartbeats later, this tease, a delicious taster charged by champagne, is too much and not nearly enough. He loses control, succumbing to a bruising kiss that takes their breath away.

From out in the hallway, Lanie watches this scene play out in the darkest corner of the bar. She has a smile on her face as she mutters to herself, "Well, I'll be darned. Kate Beckett, you little minx."

* * *

 _Two Hours Later_

Kate places her dessert fork down on the white linen tablecloth and leans closer to Castle, lowering her voice to whisper, "I can't wait for this thing to be over."

When Castle turns his head to reply, they're almost nose-to-nose she's so close. "Don't say that."

Kate sighs and crosses her arms over her stomach. She feels fuller than she'd like because she ate almost everything the waiting staff has put in front of her just to pass the time. "You're a much nicer person than me," she says, reclaiming her fork to stab the last raspberry on her plate. Soft, fruity flesh the color of oxygenated blood smears across the white porcelain; it's not a pretty sight. She pushes the plate away.

"Having been your shadow for four years and witnessed you in all sorts of situations, I'm quite certain that's not true. But I'll take the compliment anyway. Since it came from you." Castle gives her a quick smile and a playful wink.

Kate glances his way to check whether he's joking or not. "You're enjoying this? How can you? It's torture," she hisses, leading him across the room with her eyes as if to offer proof.

Since they made their way to the table, just a hair's breath before Jenny and Kevin were announced and made their entrance, Lanie has been watching them like a hawk. Even Javier, normally more focussed on devouring the free food and copious amounts of wine, seems to have been briefed (or threatened) to keep an eye on them. It's driving Kate insane.

Castle, on the other hand, appears entirely oblivious to the surveillance operation and is therefore much more relaxed. He leans back in his chair, legs stretched out in front of him. His napkin lies folded like a white sporran in his lap. He glances around their table and then further afield, eyes tracking across the function room.

"Am I enjoying the reception?" he asks rhetorically as he pokes his fork at the sad looking sponge, cream and Jell-O combination slumped over like a drunk on his plate. "You mean the mass-catered food? The trite small talk?" He taps the tines of the fork against his wine glass. "This average merlot and the background muzak they've been piping in while we eat? No. Not really."

Kate feels the weight of his hand when it lands on her thigh beneath the cover of the heavy tablecloth as he presses even closer to say, "But I am savoring every moment I get to spend with you."

When she looks at him it's a little dreamily, her smile delighted. Her body instantly grows drunk on his touch, though her mind is still sharp. "Oh, you are so much nicer a person than me, Rick Castle. And you know just the right thing to say, too." She reaches for her glass and lifts it to toast him. "Castle, you are going to make the best better half ever."

 _TBC..._

* * *

 _A/N: I've been away for a few days and then busy when I got back. So apologies for the brief delay. I know this is going at a snail's pace, but most people seem to like that and I didn't want to leave you without an update for too long. Next chapter we should get down to some hands-on sexy dancing. ;) Love to hear your thoughts. Liv_


	13. Chapter 13

_**Slow Burn**_

 _Chapter 13_

Just as Kate is considering trying to lick the glaze off her porcelain dessert plate or contemplating setting fire to the centerpiece for some diverting fun, the band arrives to begin setting up for an evening of dancing and entertainment.

The volume of chatter rises as soon as the musicians begin testing their mics and tuning their instruments. People get up from their tables and move around the room, greeting friends and relatives that they haven't seen since the last family wedding, anniversary or funeral.

Lanie, Esposito, Castle, and Kate remain at their own table with two other couples who are also in their thirties. One of the women, an attractive brunette called Callie, is a neurosurgeon. She and Lanie have been talking shop for the last half an hour, affording Kate a break from her best friend's watchful eye.

In an effort to appear polite and sociable, though they really don't want to move and Kate finds the whole ritual old-fashioned in any case, Espo changes seats and invites Castle to do the same so that the four men can sit together and talk about whatever a homicide detective, a mystery writer, a high school chemistry teacher, and a banker find to talk about over coffee and petit fours.

Kate stands when Castle does. A mix of longing and concern flashes across his face. But she smiles at him and surreptitiously squeezes his elbow. "Ladies room," she explains quietly. In truth, she plans to go outside for a little air and a break from the overwhelming din of so many people talking at once.

Castle nods, his gaze remaining fixed on her face, her mouth. His hand finds hers and he clasps it for just a second too long because Lanie sees and no doubt lip reads when he whispers, "Hurry back," before letting her go.

When Castle joins the men, Esposito tips his chin in Beckett's direction. "What's all that about, bro?"

Castle seethes inwardly. Kate was right about them being watched as if they are perps under surveillance. This is the downside of hanging with cops: they miss nothing. Castle channels his mother to improvise. With a convincing, offhand shrug, he says, "Just asking Beckett when she thinks they'll cut the cake." Espo considers his answer for a moment before he nods and decides to let it go.

The men talk about sports.

Castle listens but doesn't really engage. His attention is focused on the large set of double doors he last saw Kate disappear through as he waits for her to return. He feels like he's in a dream today, a dream where every wish he has comes true, and Kate is the one making it possible. For once in his life, he doesn't have to charm, or scrabble, strategize, fight, bribe, or persuade. She's leading the way because she wants the dream as much as he does. It's the best feeling in the world.

"Yo! Castle. You with us?" Esposito asks, bumping Castle's shoulder.

"I'm…sorry, what?" Castle asks distractedly.

Kate is walking across the floor, gracefully dodging kids, adults, and around tables and chairs as she heads back towards their table. She is a sight for sore eyes. Her dress hugs her figure perfectly, just the right side of too tight, and her height in the heels she's wearing sets her level with or just a little above most of the men at the wedding reception. Her hips sway and her arms swing, her gait and shoulders loosened by champagne and her good mood, and her hair bounces and shimmers against her back as she walks. She looks like a goddess to Castle and judging by the covetous looks she's attracting from the many other men who're now openly staring as they track her progress across the floor, he's not alone in this assessment.

When she reaches her seat on the opposite side of the table, she gives Castle an apologetic smile because she's forced, for the time being, by good manners into conversation with Lanie and the three other woman.

It's sweet torture for both of them.

As Espo pesters Castle for an answer to a question he hasn't even heard, he feels a surge of absolute relief when the lead singer of the band taps the microphone to announce the happy couple is about to take to the floor for the first dance. Everyone at the table stands to applaud as they watch Kevin lead Jenny to the middle of the room where the newlyweds begin to move to a cover version of _"Wonderful Tonight"_ by Eric Clapton.

Gradually, the whistling and hollering subside, and the bridesmaids and groomsmen plus both sets of parents join the Ryans on the dancefloor. When the band invites the other guests to join the wedding party, the rest of Kate and Castle's table sit down to resume their conversation.

Kate turns to make eye contact with Castle, only to find him already looking at her. She's just indicating the dance floor with the trails of her eyes and the jerk of her head when she feels a hand land on her arm. She turns around to find a tall man of about Castle's height standing behind her. He is slightly older and classically handsome, with a squared off jaw, salt and pepper hair, pale blue eyes, and he has his hand held out in front of him for Kate to shake.

"You look like a lady who knows her way around a dance floor. I'm Brett Carthage. Would you care to dance?"

Castle watches the man proposition Kate, and his heart feels like it's being crushed. Beckett is shaking the man's hand, but before she can even say anything, Esposito is poking Castle in the back and urging him around the table. "You've got to fight for her, man," he says. "Don't drop the damn ball now."

Castle is jolted out of his misery and he rounds the table with purpose. He gets as close as he dares before slipping his arm around Kate's waist. The gesture is possessive, predatory, high-risk alpha male behavior that would have earned him a sharp rebuke or a smack from Kate just a few days ago. But now she surprises him by leaning into his side and giving him a sparkling smile.

"Castle, this is…" She fakes not having heard the man's name, or not having paid attention; both she and Castle know that cannot be the case. "Sorry. It was Brett?" she says as if a question. When the stranger nods, his disappointment quickly obvious, she says, "Brett, this is my…fiancé, Rick." The pause she takes to lower her voice and debate the manner of the introduction takes a mere nanosecond. It is a hesitation to which poor Brett is oblivious.

"Babe, you promised me the first dance, remember?" Castle says. He's smiling, maintaining his composure by trying to keep his tone light, but Kate can see how much it means to him that they do this together for the first time.

She turns back to address the handsome stranger. "Brett, it was lovely to meet you. But…as you can see, I'm promised, I'm afraid," she says, leaning even closer to Castle.

On the other side of the table, Lanie's eyes are out on stalks and her mouth is hanging open. Brett shakes Castle's hand, makes a few polite noises about what a lucky man he is, then he quickly departs. Esposito gives Castle an enthusiastic thumbs up.

With Brett humanely terminated, Kate and Castle turn their backs on the table. He drops his arm from around her waist and immediately begins to apologize. "I know you'd never normally allow anyone to treat you that way. But when that guy appeared, I…I just saw red. I'm sorry. I've been looking forward to dancing with you all day. I _love_ this song. Ever since we met, whenever I hear it, it makes me think of you." He pauses for breath. "Can you forgive me?"

Castle's eyes widen in surprise when he feels her take his hand and tug. "Song ain't over, Castle. They're not even halfway through." She leads him towards the floor. "Come on. Dance with me."

They've just settled in hold when the singer reaches the lyric, _"And the wonder of it all, is that you just don't realize how much I love you."_

Castle joins in, singing these words quietly into Kate's ear. She grips his hand tighter, bringing it between them to rest against her chest.

A heavy moment passes in which neither of them speaks. They're on the edge of the floor, barely moving, merely turning in a slow circle that more or less keeps them on the same spot, away from everyone else.

"This is the closest I've ever been to you, the longest I've ever held you," Castle whispers against her temple, so sincere and honest that it's almost fevered.

With these words, he seals Kate to him forever.

No rings, no minister or priest, no white gown or wedding vows could prove his love or mark his commitment with more meaning and intensity than the reverent tone of his voice and the gentle press of his hand to the small of her back when he makes this simple confession.

These words tell her everything; they _mean_ everything.

Kate drops her head onto Castle's shoulder. Her arms are now completely entwined around his neck, the front of their bodies flush with one another. Every time they take a step or breathe, their thighs brush and her chest swells against his. Kate is beginning to understand the crackling origins of a wildfire in the worst (best) and most elemental way.

"People will see," Castle whispers in warning when her cheek lands against his shirt and she snuggles in against him.

But if anything, Kate moves closer. "At this point, I don't care," she says, meaning every word. "Let them look."

The song eventually comes to an end, but Kate and Castle are oblivious to the world around them except for one another. They continue to turn in their lazy circle, their feet moving automatically to prevent them from simply standing on the spot with their arms wrapped around one another, which really would be a spectacle.

When the tempo increases and the volume jumps, they are jostled by a crowd of young women who rush screaming onto the floor to take part in a group dance routine.

Kate leads Castle back to the table, and this time they retake their old seats so that they are next to one another. To an outside observer, they appear to be in something of a trance. They are processing, separately and together, all the changes that have taken place over the last couple of days. There is a lot to think about.

Someone has put a bottle of beer at Castle's place and Kate has been given a fresh glass of champagne. She's on the verge of having had too much to drink, but she lifts the glass to sip because she's thirsty and they have a lot to celebrate. "Cheers," she says to Castle. "We won't win _Dancing With the Stars_ , but long may we continue to dance together."

He smiles so brightly at this joyful, optimistic toast, and she watches with a thrill as his bright blue eyes roam her face, taking in every detail so unabashedly. "I couldn't have put it better myself," he finally says, nodding. "Maybe one day we can take lessons."

"And then take up cruising," she suggests, joining him in knowing laughter because they share an understanding that they will do neither.

Whatever they do end up doing, they quietly celebrate the fact that they will be doing it together.

Eventually, they are forced to spend time apart, dancing with their friends and a few random strangers. Around eleven, Kevin and Kate take to the floor while Castle leads Jenny out to dance. No one asks them what is going on, not even Lanie pokes her nose in when she and Kate are dragged off to boogie with a group of flower girls to _"Crazy Little Thing Called Love."_ It's as if they have witnessed the profound change in their friends and have decided to give it the space it needs to breathe without any interference or prodding for once. In a strange way, Kate finds this more unsettling than being grilled.

She's taking a breather, drinking yet another glass of champagne, her shoes kicked off, her feet up on Castle's chair as she watches him move across the floor with Jenny. He is a head-turning, handsome man and a very good dancer when he's given the opportunity to show off his skills.

"If you could see your face right now," Kate hears Lanie whisper in her ear just as she takes another sip of champagne and the bubbles rush up her nose.

Kate coughs and splutters, grabbing a napkin off the table to blot the drips that land on her dress.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you," Lanie says, patting her back as she sits down beside her. "I've just...never seen anyone look so in love."

Kate opens her mouth to dispute Lanie's observation but then she thinks better of it. "Good," she says instead. "Good. Because you're right. That's how I feel."

Lanie smiles. "Good for you, girl. I'm glad you finally figured it out."

Kate nods. "We did. We're figuring it out together."

"And how does that feel?" Lanie asks.

Kate thinks for just a second before she replies. "Pretty damn wonderful."

She senses Castle before she feels his hand land on her shoulder and trail across her back. "What's wonderful? Were you ladies talking about me again?" he says cockily.

Lanie winks at Kate and stands. "I'll leave you two lovebirds alone." Then she surprises everyone by kissing Castle on the cheek. "Take care of her. We're all rooting for you."

When Castle sits down in the chair Lanie just vacated, Kate lifts her legs and places them across his lap. "Wow! I feel like I just had my card marked by a mafia don," he says, watching Lanie samba out onto the dance floor, dragging Javi along behind by his necktie.

Kate laughs and closes her eyes. "Ah, don't worry, Castle. I'll protect you."

When she fails to open them, Castle smooths his hand down her bare shin. Her skin feels like silk beneath his caress, and he watches her shiver at his touch. "Hey, Kate," he says gently. "Don't fall asleep on me."

Woozily, she opens her eyes and holds up her glass. "Might have had a little too much of this."

He takes the champagne flute out of her hand and carefully places it on the table. "Okay. Let me get you a cup of coffee then we'll call it a night."

"No coffee," she groans, shaking her head.

Castle grins. "You look and sound adorable. But you're gonna be a bear with a sore head in the morning if we don't get you drinking some water and maybe a couple of Advil."

"Did you tell Kev and Jenny about the honeymoon suite?" she asks, blinking at him when the disco ball showers them in sparkly light.

Castle nods. "They were delighted. Over the moon. I told them it was your idea."

"Aw, you didn't have to do that."

Castle shakes his head. "No, no. Credit where it's due." Then he clears his throat and nervously smoothes his tie before adding, "I also might have told them that it was _our_ gift to them."

There's silence for a moment before Kate lifts her legs off his lap. She plants her feet on the floor and sits up, reaching for a glass of water. Castle watches her warily while she drains the contents in one go, wondering if she's mad he didn't discuss it with her first. But then she places her hand on his knee and strokes her thumb over the fabric of his navy pants. "I've had enough to drink for one night, and my feet are killing me. Do you think anyone will notice if we sneak out before they cut the cake?"

Before today, Castle would have said something whiny and petulant about missing out on a slice of wedding cake. Right at this moment, he's more concerned that Kate is ignoring the unilateral action he took without consulting her. "Kate? Did you hear what I said? Are you mad at me?"

She looks right at him. Her eyes soften on his face and the faintest trace of a smile appears on her lips. "Castle, did you not hear what _I_ said?" she counters. Her gaze flickers upwards to the floors above their heads. "I think it's time we called it a night. Don't you?"

She leans on his shoulder for balance and she wobbles a little as she steps back into her vertiginous heels. Then she turns to offer him her hand. "You with me, partner?"

Castle smiles wider than she's ever seen him smile before. "Oh, I am with you all the way, detective. Lead on," he says, lacing their fingers together as she pulls him up and tows him out across the floor.

 _TBC..._

* * *

 _A/N: If there's one song I've had in my head the entire time I've been writing this story it's Kacey Musgraves' "Happy and Sad." It's a beautiful song and the words fit pretty perfectly with this chapter. If you haven't heard it I urge you to YouTube it and listen. Thank you for your messages. Please keep 'em coming. Liv_


	14. Chapter 14

_**Slow Burn**_

 _Chapter 14_

By the time they push their way out through the throng of happy, mostly tipsy wedding guests, they are hot and slightly out of breath. The elevator is waiting, and they laugh as they run across the marble lobby floor hand in hand, making a dash to catch it before the doors can close. Kate pulls Castle in behind her just in the nick of time, and they collapse against the back wall with their chests heaving.

"Do you think anyone saw us sneaking off?" Castle asks. He gives Kate a sideways glance. She's slumped against the corner of the car with her hands braced either side of her on the metal handrail, holding herself up.

Her cheeks are attractively flushed and she laughs breathlessly. "I was too busy sneaking to stop and stare. Besides," she shrugs, "who cares? We came, we witnessed, we ate the food, we danced, we made small talk, _we_ _even_ gave them the bridal suite. Now it's our time."

There's a loud ding when the elevator reaches their floor. The air pressure changes at the last second with the cab appearing to rise and then sink back a few inches before settling at the top floor.

Kate's ears pop right before the doors slide open. She steps off then looks back for her partner. Castle is still welded to the handrail. He has an odd look on his face. She beckons to him. "You coming, Castle?"

He shakes himself and follows her out into the corridor. It's going to take him longer than a couple of days to get used to this new version of Kate Beckett who seems intent on putting them first for a change.

"Which way?" she asks, looking up at the sign on the wall, which lists suite numbers, rather than names, with arrows that point in both directions.

Castle fishes the plastic key card in its little wallet out of his pocket. "Room 520 they discreetly number the Presidential Suite. End of the corridor," he says, nudging them both to the right.

He walks a few steps down the thickly-carpeted hallway before realizing that Kate isn't beside him. When he turns around, she has one hand braced against the wall while she steps out of her heels again. She wobbles as she bends to pick them up.

"Allow me," Castle says chivalrously. He takes the stilettoes from her, transfers them to his other side then takes her by the hand. "You seem a little tipsy, detective," he teases, hoping to gauge from her reply how to handle things once they get to their room.

If he has one goal from here to eternity it's to handle their relationship with the utmost honesty and clarity from now on. They've hidden their feelings from one another, and probably from themselves, for far too long, and the miscommunication that resulted has only cost them valuable time together and, at certain points, brought them a lot of pain.

"Nothing a big glass of water won't fix," she says, giving his hand a promising squeeze.

Castle isn't quite convinced it's that simple, especially when she carries on past Room 520 dragging him with her.

"Hey, this is us," he says, gently tugging her back. He has to put a finger to his lips to try to hush her when she giggles at her own mistake. "Don't wake the neighbors," he whispers, and Kate rolls her eyes.

He hands over her shoes while he struggles to liberate the key card from the fiddly cardboard holder. She crowds his back, wrapping her free arm around him and slipping her hand inside his jacket as he attempts to open the door. A tiny part of him is disappointed; he'd have liked her to want to touch him without alcohol being involved.

So he stiffens when he feels her splay her fingers over his heart and press her lips to the soft, bare patch of skin behind his ear. She drops her head slightly until her forehead is resting against his nape and she's hugging him from behind. Her touch is deliberate, loving, needful, and full of meaning. This is not the randy pawing of a drunken woman, and Rick Castle would know if anyone would.

"Stop over-thinking everything," she whispers. "I'm not drunk, Castle. I promise." She nudges him with her hips. "Now, get the damn door open before Lanie and the boys show up with a marching band to rain on our parade."

He turns then, finding her hip, drawing her close and backing her into the wall, teasing her nose with the tip of his own, caressing her cheek with his lips and his breath before stealing a hot and desperate kiss. "Message understood," he tells her, licking his damp, lipstick-smudged mouth when they draw part.

* * *

The suite is luxurious and more than spacious. A couple of lamps have been left on inside. The light they give off is subtle, just enough to illuminate the space without ruining the mood. Kate's overnight bag is sitting on the blue leather ottoman at the foot of the King size bed and she finds it strange to see it there; such a familiar item from home making an appearance in a place that is foreign to her. A second bag that she doesn't recognize is sitting alongside it. The bag is tan leather, well-worn and expensive looking; she assumes it belongs to Castle. It occurs to her that in a short time she will _know_ for certain that it belongs to Castle, just as she will become intimately acquainted with its owner and the rest of his possessions. She may even use this bag herself one day, once they are married.

She shivers with excitement and turns to look for him. There are surprises around every corner today.

Castle carefully places the key card down on the console table behind the ornate velvet sofa then he neatly lines her shoes up on the floor beneath the ottoman to ensure neither of them will trip over the killer heels in the middle of the night.

"Quite the place," Kate says, turning in a slow circle to take it all in. The décor is contemporary, quirky and stylish, but not at all corporate. "If this is the Presidential suite, I wonder what Jenny and Kev have got?"

They both grow quiet now that discussing the décor is out of the way. Castle shrugs out of his suit jacket and goes to the closet in search of a hanger. Kate opens one of the bottles of water that have been placed on either side of the bed and pours herself a large glass. She takes a long drink and when Castle reappears, she offers the glass to him. He takes a sip and then he sets the glass down on the nightstand. They are next to a large, inviting bed, and neither of them knows what to say or do next.

Kate looks down at the floor. She chews her lip, takes a deep breath and lets it out very slowly, trying to calm her racing heart. Castle looks pensive. His features carry a strain that shouldn't be there, not anymore. So Kate steps out of her comfort zone once more, since this new strategy of hers seems to be working well for both of them. She turns her back on him, points over her shoulder and says, "Would you mind getting my zipper?"

She waits until she feels his shaking fingers clasping the tiny metal tab before she adds, "I'd like us to talk first if you don't mind? But…" She twists at the waist so that she can see his face. "Would it be okay if we got comfortable?"

After four years of build-up and so much water under the bridge, navigating from partners to lovers in harder than either of them imagined. Castle releases a whoosh of air from his lungs that sounds like utter relief. "Sounds perfect," he agrees with a nervous smile.

With her zip undone, Kate is free to step out of her dress, but before she can begin to peel it off, Castle is there, brushing against her. He gently sweeps her hair aside, exposing her back to the cool bedroom air. He lays one hand on her shoulder, resting the other at her waist to press a kiss to the top of her spine. Her muscles contract in a jolt of pleasure and his fingers tighten on her hip. He kisses her again then she feels his forehead knock into her, resting against her back in the same deeply emotional, overwhelmed manner she herself succumbed to outside in the corridor.

His breathing is a little faster than normal. "You smell so good," he whispers, allowing himself a nervous laugh. "And I sound like an idiot."

Kate turns in his arms, shaking her head. "You don't sound like an idiot." She raises his head with the tip of her finger then smiles softly as she caresses his jaw. "Need a little help with your tie?"

He lets her undo the silk necktie she picked out for him in his closet at the loft just that morning. Only twelve hours have passed since then, but it feels like a lifetime. Once the tie is gone, she begins unbuttoning his shirt.

Progress is slow.

She kisses each section of bare skin that she reveals as she eases the two sides of his shirt apart. When she gets halfway, Castle wraps his arms around her, pulling her to him, and Kate tucks her head in under his chin. He holds her body tightly against his own, sharing his warmth with her, reveling in the difference in height and scale that makes him want to protect this woman he loves like no other but whom he knows to be so strong and powerful. They stay this way for several minutes, quietly swaying just like they did on the dance floor.

He kisses the top of her head. "This has been a long time coming. I⏤" He hesitates, trailing the tips of his fingers up and down her back where her dress gapes open. "What did you want to talk about?"

She arches her back so that she can see his face. "Let's get into bed. We can talk there."

This suggestion meets no argument from Castle, and it stirs them into renewed action. They undress, and although the hands that remove their clothing might be their own, the eyes that watch them are each other's.

Kate slips her dress off each shoulder then she shimmies the skin-tight fabric down over her stomach and hips revealing the silky black slip she's wearing underneath. When she steps out of the dress and turns to hang it in the closet, Castle lets out a low whistle. She throws him a smirk over her shoulder and walks away down the short hall to the closet, putting an extra swing in her hips as she goes.

On the pretense of hanging his suit, he's soon behind her invading her space, though there's plenty to go around. Once his hands are free, he cups her shoulders, smoothing the delicate skin with his thumbs and the palm of his hands. He leans down to kiss the spot he's just touched as he runs his hands it all the way down her arms to her wrists. "So soft," he murmurs almost to himself.

* * *

Kate reaches for him, leading him back down the hallway after her. The air-conditioning is pretty fierce in the bedroom; her nipples are standing to attention beneath the double layer of lace created by the trim on her slip and the bra beneath. She shivers.

"Do you have a preference?" she asks, gesturing towards the bed.

Castle grins, managing to look more relaxed than he feels. "Oh, I never take sides."

Kate smirks at the clever comment and drags him towards the left side of the bed with her. "Let's get in. I'm cold."

He offers to turn the air conditioning down, but she shakes her head. "We'll be grateful of it later." The promise in this statement isn't lost on Castle. She pats the bed. "Just get in and keep me warm while we talk."

Kate kicks at the covers. "Okay, this comforter is way too heavy. Can you throw that off?" she says, piling up the pillows in the middle of the bed and punching them into submission so they can lie facing one another.

"Orders already," Castle mutters, grinning from ear-to-ear.

"And you love it," Kate counters.

"I do, yeah," Castle is forced to admit.

He wonders aloud at her thinking as they settle in bed. "Beckett, you've spent the last four years trying to shut me up. A little odd for _you_ to be the one in favor of talking, don't you think? Since we're doing things back to front, is this the equivalent of a post-coital cigarette?"

"You're not a secret smoker, are you?" she asks as if this might be a possibility, a bad habit that she's somehow missed.

Castle shakes his head and lies down beside her, propping himself up on one elbow. "Hey, I know you might be worried…maybe this all seems sudden. But it's really not." He shakes his head again for emphasis and looks into her eyes. "It isn't. And we know a lot more about each other than you might think."

He takes her hand. "So what if you don't know which brand of toothpaste I use and I have no idea what side of the bed you sleep on, or…or how you voted in the last election."

She arches an eyebrow. "Really, Castle? All this time and you can't guess my politics?"

He bats the thought away. "Bad example. My point is this: we know each other in all the ways that count. We know that we're both loyal to a fault, we don't quit, you've got my back and I've got yours ⏤"

"Babe," Kate adds with a grin.

"Til the wheels fall off."

"You called me babe when that guy…that⏤"

"Brett," Castle supplies.

"Yeah, when Brett wanted to dance with me." She laughs, but she's looking at him with so much affection that it almost stops his heart. "Should have seen the look on your face, like you wanted to murder him."

"Well," and a shrug is the only defense Castle offers.

"I thought you were going to tackle him to the floor. Or challenge him to a dance-off."

"That thought did cross my mind," he says, chuckling. "I am a very good dancer."

Kate caresses the side of his face. "You are a good dancer. That is true."

"I saw you watching me. Dancing with Jenny."

Kate covers her face with her hands. "You don't miss a trick, do you?"

"Not when it's you." He peels her fingers away from her face so that he can see her eyes. "Never want to miss a second of this," he says, leaning in to kiss her.

* * *

They're lying beneath the fine cotton sheet, Kate in her slip, bra and underwear, Castle in just his boxer shorts. Despite the cool, feathering breath of the air conditioning, the air in their suite now feels a little stuffy. Kate's skin has all the gloss of an olive against the milk-white bedding. Castle's tan glows dark and healthy to his t-shirt line before paling a little where the sun has yet to reach his bare chest and stomach, the muscular swell of his upper arms and shoulders.

Kate runs the tip of her finger across the borderline that bisects his biceps, separating coffee from cream. "What happened here?" she asks. Her touch is so light that it tickles. Castle squirms and yelps, finally trapping her hand his against his skin when she just won't quit touching him.

He shrugs. "Haven't made it out to the beach house this summer to work on my tan."

Kate watches his face when he tells her this. It makes her feel sad and a little guilty, though Castle doesn't look too bothered. Once again, she is struck by how little they have shared of their private lives with one another outside of the precinct. The odd dinner here and there, after or during a case, sure, but whole nights and weekends pass, holidays and birthdays, with little idea of what the other is doing across whole acres of time, hours unspooled in which they remained apart. These thoughts somewhat throw Castle's reassurances into doubt.

"I hope I can do this," she says out of nowhere. There is an edge of panicked desperation to her voice and her chest feels tight.

This is the first time she has uttered a doubtful, discordant note all day. Given her history, Castle isn't completely surprised.

She shuts her eyes tightly, takes a deep, controlled breath to calm her heart, which is suddenly racing. "Castle, I can't screw this up. Don't let me screw this up," she pleads.

He reaches for her, kissing her hair and wrapping his arms around her. Their legs tangle beneath the sheet. "Hey, where's this coming from? You won't. All on your own two feet, you couldn't. But I won't let you in any case. I'm gonna be right here, by your side, every step of the way until we're old and gray, Kate. I promise."

Her lashes are long and dark, heavily accentuated by the carbon-black mascara she layered on this morning. When they flicker open and she stares at him, she looks scared.

"Kate, talk to me. What's going on?"

She frowns as though trying to figure it out for herself. "We're so different," she eventually says. "You're so open. With everyone. And I'm so closed off. You poured your soul into your child. What have I done? I lost my mother and I gave everything I had to my _job._ "

"Hey," he soothes, rubbing circles on her back. "Having kids forces you to open up. There's no way around asking for help. Especially when you're a single dad with a newborn baby girl to take care of. I was clueless. Don't think I'd even held a baby before Alexis came along. So, I'd talk to complete strangers, to the moms in the park…"

Kate splutters a watery laugh. "I'll bet you did. Men with babies? Even stronger catnip than puppies, and that's saying something."

He clears his throat and tries to get them back on track. "As I was saying: you were a closed book when I met you. Spikey anger always on display. Displeasure with me. Cold and concise with perps. It was a sight to behold, believe me. You were strong and powerful, self-contained, a force of nature. It was sexy as hell. But you were also damaged and isolated by the trauma you'd been through. It was as if you were never sure who to trust. But you've changed, Kate. I've watched you change."

"I hope so. That's not a very flattering portrait you just painted."

"But I think you know that it's true. Together, we chipped away at that hard shell. You trust the boys more now than you did when I came to the Twelfth. And I'm sure all we did was strip you back to the person you were before unimaginable tragedy entered your life and took your mom from you."

She breathes in deeply and then lets her chest fall as she drives the air out of her lungs. "I don't want my job to be the sum of my life anymore," she admits.

Castle strokes her arm. "Good. That's good. That's great."

"I want to pour myself into our marriage, Castle. Heart and soul." She watches his face as she tests the waters. "And maybe kids one day?" His eyes twinkle and he smiles.

They stare at one another. The desire to stop time has never been stronger.

She touches her index finger to the midline of his chest and draws it down from the shallow dip of his jugular notch to the base of his sternum. "If anything ever happened to you…"

She shakes her head and places a kiss against his skin on the spot where the bullet entered her heart, consciously or unconsciously, then she raises her eyes to look at him. "Sounds ridiculous, I know, but you can't ever die. Okay?" Tears glitter on her lashes.

Castle watches her quietly then he strokes her hair and moves to kiss her. But she stays him with her hand. "I mean it, Castle. You have to promise me."

"Kate, you know I can't do that. We're all going to die."

"Then we'll just have to go together. When we get old." Her lashes flicker and a tear slides down her cheek. Her smile is weak but still there, still holding fast.

"Nah, they'll have a cure for everything by then. Besides, you'll never get old. You're too beautiful for that." He cups her chin and skims his thumb back and forth over her lips. They feel so soft. She bites the pad of his thumb on one pass and heat flares between them. His voice catches in this throat when he says, "Did I tell you yet just how beautiful you are? And can I just say how great it feels to be able to admit these things to you?"

The moment is heavy and charged. They are both quiet and watchful.

Suddenly, Castle changes gear, finding a way back to their familiar lightness. He lifts the sheet and peers beneath it to look at her legs then he slides the spaghetti strap of her slip and the strap of her bra off her shoulder and inspects her naked skin. "So…just what happened here?" he asks, mimicking her earlier question. "Because this looks very much like it might be a full body tan."

Kate smiles and her eyes sparkle. "I have a little roof terrace."

Castle gasps and clutches his chest. "And you never told me? How did I not know this? Do you sunbathe in the nude up there? Can anyone see?"

Kate smiles enigmatically and Castle's eyebrows rise and fall, his face is lit up with mischief and joy. She loves him all the more for the light he brings to her life just when she needs it most. "What?" she asks, prodding him a little.

"I like the idea of you lying on your roof deck. Sexy."

"Ah, so you're really marrying me for my little patch of New York real estate?"

Castle laughs, burying his face in the crook of her neck. She cards her fingers through his hair, squirming as she holds him to her and he kisses her neck. It feels wonderful.

"Actually, that's something we do have to talk about," she says, her voice more serious all of a sudden.

Castle freezes and his head pops up. "What's that?"

"The…the financial thing. We should really sort that out."

"What's to sort?" He plays with her lingerie, sliding it on and off her shoulder like a child with a new toy.

"Uh, _plenty_ ," Kate says, as if he's insane not to be aware of this, too.

"Kate, I don't want a prenup, if that's what you're getting at. Not with you."

"Said every man with money who fell in love but didn't think things through."

He's stunned by the ease with which she admits that he's in love with her now, but stops short of saying so. "I don't need it. _We_ don't need it," he insists.

" _I_ don't. But you sure as hell do. Castle, both my parents are… _were_ lawyers. If we don't do this, my dad is likely to take you aside and suggest it…on our _wedding_ day."

Castle sighs and closes his eyes for a second. When he opens them again, he says, "Kate, this is already a family business. It has been for the last four years. I've just never had a legit way to share the profits with you before. Not one you would ever have agreed to anyway."

"Rick, your writing is _your_ work product. All the hours you spend…" She shakes her head. "No. You need to protect yourself."

"From you?" He laughs. "There would be no books without you. No wealth to protect. Not without your job. To say nothing of all the inspiration you've given me over the years," he adds with a suggestive life of his eyebrows. "No. As I said: family business. We're sharing. No arguments. Now, can we please talk about something a little more romantic?"

Kate tilts her head to admire him, such a kind and generous soul. Her smile is a little love-struck and dopey. " _That's_ romantic," she says quietly. "What you just said: family business. _That_. Right there: your faith in us…in _me_. That's…" She shrugs. "It's _so_ hot. You have no idea."

She has a predatory look in her eye when she crooks her finger and beckons him closer. "Okay, good talk. Now, Castle, get over here."

 _TBC..._

* * *

 _A/N: That chapter got so long that I've had to split it in two. Please keep the reviews coming, they're fun to read and the only clue to what you're thinking. Liv_


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N: Please note rating change to M._

* * *

 _"Everything I've ever done, every choice I've ever made, every terrible and wonderful thing that's ever happened to me has all led me to right here, this moment with you." - **Rick Castle** , 6x15: "Smells Like Teen Spirit."_

* * *

 ** _Slow Burn_**

 _Chapter 15_

The way she looks at him. There's a frankness he's never seen before, a clear-eyed, intimate familiarity that has nothing to do with how they met or all the years of casework, elbows in the dirt side-by-side, and everything to do with what they are to one another now: deeply, passionately loved, completely trusted, and desperately, achingly desired.

He can't imagine his life without her.

Arousal lights her up from the inside, desire that makes her eyes appear hazy in the lamplight, vision a little unfocused as she roams over his body, absorbing all that is newly exposed to her. Even his face she views with nothing short of lust. She doesn't shy away from letting him see that she wants him, either. How she wants him. That he turns her on.

She wants him. Desperately.

Slowly, she rises from beneath the covers, high and graceful, powerful even. She's completely in control, holding onto his shoulders as she throws one leg over his thighs to straddle his lap. It makes him think of the night before: the growl of her Harley, his arms wound tight around her, making out on the edge of the Hudson with the wind in their hair. His body begins to throb at the memory.

The white sheet falls away as she moves and with it her slip, which descends down one arm exposing the delicate lace of her bra. Beneath this transparent layer, the pale skin of her right breast and the tawny-pink of her nipple are visible, confirming that she does indeed have a tan line; it's just a lot smaller than his. A low tide to his high.

Castle's eyes flare wide, glittering with lust that he doesn't have to hide from her anymore, either, and it excites her rather than scares her to see how much he wants her, to know how much they want each other. She can smell the ache of need and excitement rising off their skin, the musk of his manhood, the sharp scent of her own arousal, and when she settles on top of him she can feel it, too.

"How long?" he croaks out as she shifts her weight driving him insane.

"Mm?" she murmurs, flicking his earlobe with the tip of her tongue before she sucks it into her mouth. Her hands are in his hair, carding through the layers, and he closes his eyes to enjoy the delicious tingle that spreads out across his scalp and over his skin.

He drops his hands to her hips, holding her against him, pushing her down as his pelvis rises to meet her, intimately, in a slow, aching thrust. "Jesus. Fuck!" one of them whispers, or maybe they both do.

"How long have you wanted this?" he asks again, gritting his teeth against the overwhelming need to drive up into her a second time and never stop.

She pauses, growing still, but instead of shying away from the question or trying to distract him, and God knows there are so many tricks she has at her fingertips to distract him right now, she locks her eyes on his and says, "Longer than I should have." She lowers her head and her hair tumbles across her shoulders, covering her breasts and half of her face.

"Should?" He frowns.

Her eyebrows rise and fall. "Years, okay." Then she growls low in her throat, a frustrated, embarrassed sound. "Don't make me say it, Castle," she whispers. "Not my proudest moment."

"After that tease, I think you'd better…say it." He squeezes her ass.

She closes her eyes. "I wanted you when we were both with other people. Okay? It was a problem. A big problem."

"So…why… _be_ with other people?" He knows he sounds like he's whining, and he is, but he can't help it. Missing out on this is now his biggest problem.

"Could ask you the same thing," she challenges, and there's a note of hurt that shocks him.

"I thought you weren't interested, that it was a lost cause. I didn't want you kicking me out of the precinct and your life because you thought I was pestering you, being a creep. So I backed off."

"Wow!"

"Yeah, what a couple of idiots," Castle agrees.

Kate trails her fingers down his chest, lightly dragging her nails over his nipples when she leans in to kiss him, shifting her weight, bearing down with her pelvis, meeting his hard insistence with her own wet heat as she teases his mouth apart with her tongue and rocks her hips. "Can I tell you something else?" she whispers breathily, stuttering, "I…I love kissing you. It's…addictive. And touching you, too. I love touching you."

Despite everything, there's something blissful in this pace, this slow burn that sparked between them many years ago, the embers they have taken turns to fan, to tend, and finally made to catch before that slow burn could die, smothered by fear or neglect. Together they have made a roaring fire that will never go out.

She plays with his ear and watches him smile at her, eyes heavy-lidded and lustful when she rolls the velvety skin between finger and thumb, moving closer, radiating heat, to cradle his head against her chest while she sits curled in his lap. "I'm so sorry for all the time I kept us apart," she whispers against his hair, still toying with his ear. "Castle, I really love touching you."

Her confession almost breaks his heart, but this is not the time or place for that. This is a time for joy, for celebration, for looking to the future. This is a night for making each other laugh and cry out in ecstasy, this is the night they become each other's once-and-for-all.

He smiles. "You said. Me, too," he adds, pressing a kiss between her breasts, his voice muffled against her naked skin when he says, "Don't worry. I'll use it against you whenever we have a fight. You won't go unpunished."

He winks and his smile is teasing and predatory both. His hands travel from her hips, curving down over her buttocks, and he squeezes for emphasis. "You will be punished, Beckett." The silence in the bedroom is rent apart by a loud crack when he smacks her ass.

Kate gasps and instinctively moves closer, flicking out her tongue to wet his lips when Castle begins to knead her buttocks with a steady rhythm. She rolls her hips forward, pressing down on the growing swell of his arousal as she does so. Her thighs contract and release around his thighs, she breathes through her nose, fast, desperate, growing hotter and more turned on by the second. She bites his lip, swallowing his protest with a bruising kiss so that the groan reverberates inside her mouth, shooting to her core.

When she's forced to break the seal of their lips, she collapses against his bare chest, gulping down air. "Dear God. I feel like I'm going to explode."

Castle eases his hips upwards again, pressing into her, the need to fuck her becoming overwhelming. He's not sure how much longer he can hold out without splaying her across the mattress and finding a new way to prove his love.

"We need to get the rest of these clothes off," Kate says as if she can read his mind, but he holds her still before she can begin stripping. She looks at him warily; he has something on his mind, she can see it in his face. A ripple of fear passes through her. "Rick, what's is it?"

He blows out a breath and scratches his eyebrow with his thumbnail. Then he coughs. "So I um…so I called Alexis outside the church today after I found your bag in the trunk of the car and I asked her to pack a change of clothes, my toothbrush…the usual."

"So I _did_ see her before?" She smacks his arm. "You looked at me like I was crazy."

Castle grins but doesn't flinch. "Yeah, sorry about that. Didn't want to ruin the surprise. Anyway…what I'm trying to say is that I didn't feel I could ask her to pack..." He clears his throat in discomfort.

Kate smirks. "Condoms? No, absolutely. That would be...no." She frowns, thinking about her own father. "Way too weird."

" _So_ …" he says slowly, "I don't suppose you have...um…"

"Protection? I thought you went through my bag already." She's joking with him, being a smart ass, but he misses it because he's unexpectedly flustered. Just to mess with him some more, she adds, "Actually, come to think of it, I can't believe you didn't just text your teenage daughter and ask her to toss a box of Trojans in along with your toothpaste."

Castle groans and covers his face. "Stop! Just imagine if it was your dad," he says from behind his hands.

Kate laughs. "God, no. I was just thinking that seconds ago. There is _no_ way."

They share a dopey grin for a moment before Castle nudges her arm. "Just for the record, I would never look inside your bag. Not now and not after we're married, either." He toys with her fingers. "So, you've got nothing? I just...I just realized that I don't even know if you're on the pill."

Kate kisses him just because she can.

"Maybe you were right when you said we know so much about each other and yet so little," Castle says, softly kissing her back. She rolls her hips in a circle, sparking a complaint of, "Beckett, this isn't helping."

So she leans away from him, trying to tamp things down, straightening her shoulders. "I was. On the pill. For years. Since my teens, in fact. It helped me control things for school and then work. But the artificial hormone thing never sat well with me. After I got shot, I decided to stop, let my body return to its...natural cycle. With the PTSD and everything, I just wanted to be able to assess my mood without any chemical interference. There, now you know everything. What about you? Any prescription drugs, bad habits, or health issues I should know about? Besides the obvious," she adds with a cheeky grin.

Castle shakes his head. "Healthy as an ox. Well, unless you count any mental defect I may have inherited from my mother."

"Cute," Kate says. "But we're getting off track."

"Yes. So, between us, we have no protection? That's what we're saying?" He smacks his forehead and groans when she nods. "Couple of responsible adults," Castle mutters.

"Mm-hmm." Kate is still, watching Castle process this information and formulate a plan because he always comes up with a plan. But tonight, she's working through a few thoughts of her own.

He brightens. "Should I call reception? I can call reception. Yeah. They must get this kind of request all the time." He leans over to grab the receiver and hits the preset button for the concierge.

Kate rolls after him, ducking under his arm to press the hook switch canceling the call. "Wait. I have an idea." She squeezes her eyes tightly shut and balls her fingers into tight fists, unable to believe that she's the one suggesting this.

Castle is looking at her with more than a little curiosity. " _Okaaay._ Shoot."

Kate cocks an eyebrow and smirks. "Yeah, we'll get to that part in a minute."

For once, Castle is the one who rolls his eyes. "Really bad joke, Beckett. Given our current predicament."

She takes a breath and holds her hands out in front of her as if preparing him for something big. "Okay. Here goes. You said we do things back to front. You've been pointing that out since yesterday. And you're right." She gestures to the room. "We are starting with the honeymoon after all."

"And I believe that it's tradition in a lot of cultures for wedding nights to be sexless affairs, so we're right on track," he says dryly. "Usually, that's on account of alcohol consumption rather than…chronically bad planning," he says weakly because she's glaring at him for interrupting her with a bad joke of his own. He mouths, "Sorry," and gestures for her to continue.

"Would it be such a bad thing if...I mean I'm not getting any younger anyway, so it's unlikely…" She closes her eyes and mutters, "I can't believe I'm actually saying this. But what if we slipped up? Would that be so bad?"

Castle settles his hands on her thighs. His touch feels heavy and warm, intimate, reassuring. He sounds cautiously excited when he says, "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"

Kate nods. "That we have unprotected sex. Yes. Was I not clear?"

"Not that part. But to be clear: yes, I'm in. No, I meant..."

"You and me, having a baby?" she says breathlessly. Her eyes are filled with fear and wonder even at the slim possibility. "I know we haven't talked about it. I don't even know if you _want_ more kids. But yesterday at the precinct when I said what if we were getting married, you ran with it and now we're here, planning our wedding, our life..."

" _A_ life." He grins.

Kate finds herself smiling, too. "So...does that mean you're okay with it? If I got pregnant it wouldn't be a disaster?"

"One time? I think it might be a miracle. But a disaster?" He hugs her. "Kate, I can't think of anything more wonderful."

She smiles at him, slow and beautiful. "Who said anything about one time? We've got this room until…what? Midday tomorrow?"

Kate squeals when Castle picks her up and throws her down on the bed. "Better get busy then. Time's a wastin'."

* * *

Once their laughter dies down, Kate is looking up at him with a smile of adoration on her face. She reaches up to smooth his hair back from his forehead. He thinks it might be the most tender, loving gesture she's ever shown him. She's still smiling but there is a glint of tears in her eyes when she says, "You know I'm in love with you, don't you? I love you… _so_ much. This is it for me, Rick. _You're_ it," she says, smiling wider even as a tear runs down into her hair.

He kisses her with everything he has.

What has been slow and teasing becomes heated in an instant. Castle's hands are everywhere, pushing up her slip, rubbing the front of her sodden underwear. He removes her bra strap with his teeth and nudges the lace of her bra aside with his nose as she struggles beneath him. When he pushes his fingers inside her underwear she cries out and arches off the bed.

"So fucking wet," he growls. "You're a goddess," he adds, coating his fingers in her juices, brushing his thumb over her swollen clit, before sliding two fingers inside her.

Kate writhes against the mattress, fistfuls of sheet the only thing holding her down. Red-hot heat crawls like a rash up her neck and chest. She opens her legs wider, inviting him in. "I need you inside me, please?" she begs, even as he pleasures her with his fingers. "I want you to fuck me, Castle. Now, please?"

She whimpers then sags when he wordlessly complies, withdrawing his fingers without warning. He crawls off the bed to shed his boxer shorts. She leans up on her elbows, her chest heaving and legs trembling, to watch him strip.

She moistens her lips and swallows noisily, blinking as she stares. "You weren't joking…ever," she says, and a smirk adds a playful light to her eyes.

Proudly, Castle stands on display with his hands on his hips. "Beckett, you should know by now that I would never joke about anything this serious."

She flops back on the mattress as he crawls towards her. "Lift," he demands, scooping up one leg at the knee. She arches her butt off the bed without complaint about being told what to do, and Castle keeps his eyes on her face the entire five seconds it takes for him to peel her damp panties down her legs and toss them over his shoulder.

When she sees him look down and lick his lips, she closes her legs together. Castle looks like a kid who just had his favorite toy taken away.

Kate waits for him to look back up at her. "Later," she says. "First time, I want to feel you make love to me."

He takes her face in his hands and kisses her, gently stroking her cheeks. "We're crossing a line."

Her eyes widen and shortly after, a ghost of a smile appears. "Are you asking for my permission?" she teases.

"I'm…we've waited so long," he explains.

"Too long." He's still holding her face and she grasps his wrists. "You told me you love me. You gave me your word a long time ago. Now, I want to feel it. I want to feel you…moving inside me. Castle, I need you." She turns her head just a fraction and kisses his palm. "Please? Rick, make love to me."

* * *

He lays his hand on her stomach, fingers splayed. It's such a large, warm hand. He touches her with such reverence, smoothing his way across her skin, brushing his thumb over her navel. Kate watches him explore her body with fascination. There's something so erotic about the close attention that he pays her, far more erotic than simple fucking. He's watched her for years, absorbing every nuance. Now he's peeling back another layer so that there will be no secrets left, no hidden corners between them, and Kate is surprised to realize that she doesn't want there to be. She's good with this full disclosure. More than good. She's ecstatic.

"I don't want you ever thinking this wasn't mutual," she says, shivering with delight when he presses his lips where his hands have just been. She fights for coherency to get this important message across. "I had a job to do. I had to keep you safe."

"And I had a reputation," he says sagely.

"There was that. But only in the beginning. I had to keep you safe. This would have been an almighty distraction."

As if to prove her point, she arches off the bed when he moves lower, kissing each hip bone as if he's saying hello to all the parts of herself she kept hidden from him.

He peeks a look at her, curious to know. "And now?"

"Ah, shit, that's good," she curses, squirming against the bed and laughing when he breaks the rules and puts his mouth on her. "Haven't quite figured that...that part out, yet," she admits breathlessly. "All I know is that we couldn't go on like before." She runs her hand through his hair, clutching the thick layers around his crown so she can keep him with her because there are things she needs to say.

"I want to wake up with you. To eat breakfast in bed, pick through bookstores on the weekend, watch TV, go grocery shopping, cook together. I want to make a home with you so we can grow old together. I've never felt that way about anyone before." He coasts his hands up and down her thighs as she says, "You showed me a better way to live. You made me _want things_ , Richard Castle." She grins, her eyes shining with mischief and gratitude. "And now I'm coming to collect.

* * *

He crawls up from between her legs to kiss her. His biceps bulge and strain as he drapes his body over hers, bracing himself against the bed. Kate reaches between them to find him. She wraps her hand around his hard length and guides him to her. She shifts her hips, her eyes locked on his face, watching him the entire time. Both gasp and shudder when he nudges and pushes before finally sliding inside.

Her head falls back in ecstasy when they begin to move. Her bare throat calls to him. Her mouth is open, the sound of her breathing audible, the ragged catch of air in her throat that falls just shy of a scream. The adorable little frown of lust and concentration that wrinkles her forehead. The flush of heat on her chest, neck, and throat. There's a rosy blush to her cheeks, a shine in her eyes, her teeth trapping her lip until he flicks her nipple with his tongue. When he sucks on her breast, drawing it into his mouth, she digs her nails into his back, shuddering with need and crying aloud.

They move slowly at first until the pressure builds and they take off together, chasing after the pleasure they've been denying themselves for so insanely long. Time means nothing. There are only her breasts and his beautiful eyes, her tongue everywhere. Hot, demanding kisses, her hands in his hair, his mouth on her jaw, her neck, her fingers kneading his buttocks pulling him deeper into her, backs arching, rocking, muscles tightening, breathing hard and fucking, fucking, clutching and shuddering until she stills in his arms, gripping him hard. She trembles for the longest time, her whole body shaking, riding the waves of a powerful orgasm until she sags, his name escaping on a chuckled sigh.

Castle watches her fall apart, marveling at her body's response to his, how she contracts and flutters around him while drawing him deeper inside, giving her body to him completely.

When she opens her eyes, immediately surging up to claim his mouth with such a fierce, greedy possession, this is the tipping point. He finally loses control: holding her tight against him, cursing loudly into her neck as he bucks one last time, his whole body seizing, convulsing at the peak of a shattering climax like none he's experienced before.

They collapse on the bed beside one another, gasping, laughing, sweating, still holding hands.

Between ragged breaths, Castle gets out, "You leave me speechless. I've been in love with you for so long I can't remember a time I wasn't, and still, you leave me speechless."

Kate turns her head to look at him, too loose and exhausted to move anything else. She grins, "Speechless but still talking, huh? Sounds about right."

Castle is surprised by her playful tone. He takes in her smile, the light of joy in her eyes, her love for him so completely on display. "And you're naked, detective." His eyebrows dance.

She raises her arms above her head and stretches like a cat, exposing her entire body for him to see. "Don't need to be a detective to figure that out."

It's at that moment he realizes that they are going to be just fine; any worries they've had about making this work evaporate.

* * *

"Are you dozing?" Kate asks after a few moments of quiet.

Castle eyes fly open and he stares at the ceiling trying to recall where he is.

"You were." She laughs, poking him in the side. "You fell asleep on me."

"Just resting my eyes for a second, that's all. It's been a long day."

Kate rolls away and sits up before he can stop her, though he does try, belatedly flailing in her direction in an attempt to grasp any piece of her that he can reach and hold onto. "I need to use the bathroom then we should try to sleep…" She looks back at him over her shoulder. "Or nap at least."

"Nap?"

"Mm. Regain our strength for round two." She returns to the bed, stretching over him to press a hot, wet kiss to his mouth. Castle takes advantage of the moment to fondle her breasts and palm her naked buttocks. He will never get over the endorphin rush that comes from being able to touch her; it's his new favorite drug.

Kate stands up, places her hands on her hips, watching him through slightly narrowed eyes. Castle whines at the sudden deprivation. She pouts and taps him on the nose. "I have to clean up. Be good while I'm in there. Keep the bed warm. I'll be right back."

As soon as the bathroom door closes, Castle scrambles out of bed. He listens for the sound of running water, toilet flushing, any sign that Kate is still occupied. He opens the leather overnight bag at the bottom of the bed, pulls out a fresh pair of boxer shorts then feels around the dark interior for something else.

The door to the bathroom opens without warning. The light from inside is blinding, and Castle winces like a suspect in a spy movie who's just had a desk lamp aimed in his eyes.

"Looking for something?" Kate asks.

She's lounging alluringly against the bathroom doorjamb, one hip jutting out, arms crossed beneath spectacular breasts, stomach as smooth and flat as a mirror, model-length legs beautifully backlit, and all Castle can do is stutter and stare.

TBC...

* * *

 _A/N: Thank you to the reader who reminded me of the wonderful quote I included at the start. I'd forgotten Castle said that. It was a perfect introduction to this chapter. Remember, if you're shy about leaving a review to an M chapter you can do so anonymously. They're the most difficult to write. Love to hear your thoughts. Liv_


	16. Chapter 16

**_Slow Burn_**

 _Chapter 16_

 _Previously..._

 _As soon as the bathroom door closes, Castle scrambles out of bed. He listens for the sound of running water, toilet flushing, any sign that Kate is still occupied. He opens the leather overnight bag at the bottom of the bed, pulls out a fresh pair of boxer shorts then feels around the dark interior for something else._

 _The door to the bathroom opens without warning. The light from inside is blinding, and Castle winces like a suspect in a spy movie who's just had a desk lamp aimed in his eyes._

 _"Looking for something?" Kate asks._

 _She's lounging alluringly against the bathroom doorjamb, one hip jutting out, arms crossed beneath spectacular breasts, stomach as smooth and flat as a mirror, model-length legs beautifully backlit, and all Castle can do is stutter and stare._

"Uh…my…just my… _toothbrush!_ "

Castle exclaims the word toothbrush with all the conviction of the heavenly inspired.

Kate continues to watch from the bathroom doorway while he roots around inside the bag some more. "Alexis didn't pack your toiletry bag? She just threw your stuff in there?" She frowns as she tries to imagine Castle's fastidious, Type A daughter just tossing loose items into her dad's overnight bag. "Seems…odd," she says because it doesn't ring true, though it is possible the girl packed in a hurry after her dad's cry-for-help phone call outside the church.

Suddenly, Castle abandons his search. He turns to face her. His clean boxer shorts are still folded and he clutches them to his stomach. He drops his head and looks at the floor. He rubs his neck then looks up at her again.

"Rick?" Kate says, her creeping sense of unease outpacing even Castle's. "What's…what's going on?"

He sighs and lets his shoulders drop. Carefully, he places the boxer shorts back on top of the bag, and just like that, they are as naked as each other. "That was a lie just now. The toothbrush thing? I just told you a lie."

An almost imperceptible twitch in Kate's eyebrow is the only thing that gives her surprise away. " _Okay_. I'm sure there's a good reason. Care to share it with me?" she asks in a soft, even voice, like a mother questioning a contrite child.

Her calm reaction has Castle marveling once more at how amazing she's been the last couple of days, taking every crazy thing in her stride. It's not entirely like her, but he loves this new Kate even more.

"I was looking for this," he explains. He uncurls the fingers on his right hand and holds it out flat.

Kate flicks the wall switch off behind her and pushes off the bathroom doorframe, taking a couple of steps towards him. Now, the only light in the room comes from the two lamps illuminating opposite corners of the suite, but the muted glow is enough for her to be able to make out a small, dark cube nestled on his upturned palm.

"What's⏤" She freezes. Her eyes track up from the small box to Castle's face. She swallows. "Is that what I think it is?"

Castle smiles. He holds his free hand out to her, beckoning with wiggling fingers. "Come here. Come closer. What do you think it is?"

Slowly, she gravitates towards the hand he's offering, catching his fingers and allowing him to reel her in. When she reaches him, he lets go of her hand and slips his arm around her waist, tucking her into his side so that their hips and thighs are aligned, their bare skin pressed together. He feels warm and solid. He kisses her temple. Without thinking about it, Kate's shoulders drop and she begins to breathe more slowly, realizing that this is what being close to him does to her now: he relaxes her. It's a small revelation, but it strikes her as profound and perfect.

Up close, she can see that the item balanced on his palm is a dark brown, crackle leather ring box. She presses her left hand to her chest, covering her scar. "Oh, my God," she whispers. When she looks up at him, he's smiling as he watches her reaction. "Castle, is that…a…an…"

He moves to open the box, but she curls her hand around his wrist, stopping him.

"No!"

He startles at her sharp command and his eyes fly to her face. "What?"

She lowers her voice back to normal volume and speaks carefully, wary eyes trained on the little box. "If that's what I think it is, I want you to do this properly." She smiles nervously.

"You want me to⏤"

She looks equally horrified that he's about to say it out loud, so she covers his mouth with her hand. "Don't _describe_ it to me. Just… _do it!_ " she says, breaking into nervous laughter as she gestures towards the elegant, worn little box.

He can't believe how excited she looks, how adorable. Dancing on the spot with her hands over her mouth, naked as the day she was⏤ Okay, that's not something he wants to be thinking about right at this moment lest an image of her father's serious face pop into his head. He hasn't had time to ask for papa Beckett's permission and, as ridiculous as it sounds since they're talking about Detective Kate Beckett here, for Jim and little Katie he's a little sad about that.

Kate makes an impatient sound, and Castle takes the hint. He clears his throat and squares his shoulders, readying himself.

But she looks around the room, left, right then she turns in a circle.

"What? Is this not the right spot?" Castle asks uncertainly.

She laughs, a little girlish and a little skittish. "How about over there? By the window?" she suggests, taking him by the wrist and leading him to a set of French doors that give a view of a small terrace.

Castle looks at her. "Kate, we're both… _naked._ I mean, you're gorgeous and I'm no prude, so I'm game if you are. But an indecency charge might not be the best way to memorialize our…"

"Shhh! Don't say it," she interrupts again. "Just…" She rotates her wrist, waving her hand for him to get a move on. "Make it happen, Castle." She claps her hands together, and he's pretty sure he's never seen her so eager or excited about anything before.

With the night sky as their backdrop, Castle finally prises the little ring box open. The hinge is old and it creaks like worn leather when he pops the lid. Before Kate can get a glimpse inside, beyond a tantalizing flash as ambient light hits cut gemstone, Castle is sinking to one knee with the box held aloft.

He coughs, nods to himself then looks her in the eye. "Kate, you complete me in ways that I never knew were possible. You challenge me every day to be better, to do what's right, to be there for you. I love you without condition. I love you more deeply than I've ever loved before. You astound me in so many ways. I want to make a future with you, to spend the rest of my life with you, laughing and loving one another until the wheels fall off. Katherine Beckett, will you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?"

By the time Castle has finished his proposal speech, there are tears running down Kate's face. She has her hands clasped over her mouth attempting to hold her emotions in.

Castle rises from his knee in concern, the ring box still out-held. "Kate, are you okay?"

She nods, mutely, trying to smile while tears continue to roll down her cheeks. Then she nods some more.

Castle holds out the box. "So…is that a yes?" He holds his breath.

"Yes," she gasps with a watery hiccup. "Yes, it's a yes," she says more forcefully, joyfully throwing her arms around his neck.

Castle picks her up and spins her around, kissing her on the cheek as he does so. When they stop spinning, he places her back on the ground, immediately swamping her with a bruising, breath-stealing kiss. Despite the proposal that she accepted in the church earlier today, he feels a deep sense of relief. The ring makes it official, and he so badly wanted this particular deal bolted down.

Kate's hands are shaking while Castle eases the ring free of the velvet pad and sets the box aside. He takes her hand to hold it steady then he slides the ring onto her finger. Unbelievably, it is a perfect fit.

Kate's mouth falls open and she covers it with her free hand as she admires the engagement ring. It's antique. A beautiful Art Deco emerald and diamond cluster with a bezel-set emerald-cut emerald forming the center of a daisy, surrounded by ten sparkling old mine cut diamonds that represent the petals. The setting is silver over gold and the split band is 14k gold.

Kate turns her hand this way and that, fascinated by the glittering rainbow of light sparking off the diamond setting.

Castle watches her with a cautious smile on his face. "Do…do you like it?" he finally asks.

She wipes a tear off her cheek and sniffs as she nods. Her eyes are dark pools and her expression is slightly bashful. "Rick, I love it. I love _you_ ," she says, kissing him hard once more.

With their lips fused and her arms wound around his neck, they crowd into one another, their bodies pressed together tightly. They quickly come alive, and it doesn't take long for sexual sparks to fly.

Castle lifts her up and she squeals, wrapping her legs around his hips and holding onto him while he carries her back to bed. "No time for a nap, Mrs. Castle."

Her face betrays her not so secret thrill at hearing him call her by her future married name.

"I couldn't sleep if I wanted to. I'm too excited," she confesses.

She stretches out across the bed, beckoning Castle to join her. He places his knee on the mattress between her legs and crawls over her. When he pretends to collapse on top of her she squeals again, laughing so hard that her whole body shakes as he scoops her up and rolls them onto their sides so they're facing one another.

Kate makes a happy, contented sound as her laughter dies away and she settles on one elbow to look at him.

"You seem happier the last couple of days than I've ever known you," he risks saying.

She's still smiling and she touches the little dent in his chin. "Feel happier. Definitely. I can't believe everything that's happened since we were at the precinct last night. What about you? How're you doing? Suffering from whiplash yet?"

Castle reaches out to touch her hair. He slips his fingers through the curled strands and into her scalp to cup the back of her head then he leans in to kiss her. His mouth is soft, and she is pliant, the kiss slow and undemanding. "What do you think?" he whispers hoarsely, his voice choked with emotion as he brushes the tip of his nose back and forth over hers and then kisses her again.

"You don't seem miserable. I'd certainly testify to that." She smirks, quickly finding herself having to fight him off when he starts to tickle her for this massive understatement.

They flop onto their backs with an exhausted, happy sigh, and stare up at the ceiling. Kate holds her hand up to admire her engagement ring.

"Tell me about this?" she asks. "It's so beautiful, Rick. So perfect and unusual. There must be a story. I'm assuming you didn't just send Alexis out last minute with loose instructions and a credit card."

"No." He laughs. "But I had to give her the combination to my safe. It was my grandmother's," he says, shocking her enough that she bolts upright in bed.

She twists to stare at him. "Your _what?_ _This?_ This _ring_ belonged to your _grandmother?_ "

She holds her hand out in front of them both and they stare at the emerald and diamond cluster.

"Wow!" she says reverently.

Castle takes her hand, rubbing his thumb over the base of her ring finger, admiring how good the family heirloom looks on her. He also hears the questions she's not asking.

"Alice Olivia Rodgers was my mother's mother. I never met her. She died in a boating accident five or six years before I was born."

Kate curls her fingers around his hand. "I'm sorry you never got to meet her. I'm sure she would have loved you."

Castle kisses her bare shoulder. "For her time, she was a strong, independent woman, according to the stories Martha tells, anyway. She definitely would have loved you."

Kate gingerly touches the emerald. The center of the stone is smooth and flat, and the circle of diamonds sparkle as if they are vying for her attention. "So this is a family heirloom?"

Castle nods. "Mm-hmm. Hasn't seen the light of day since grandma died and mother inherited it." He needs her to know that much as he has a flawed past, with two ex-wives to account for, no one has meant more to him than Kate. So he tells her so. "Look, I know I've screwed up in the past, and you've been honest enough to admit that it was an issue."

"In the beginning," Kate reiterates.

"Still. You always said you were a one-and-done type of woman, and I respect that. So it pains me to have to admit my past mistakes. I wish there was nothing between us, Kate. No water under the bridge. I wish _I_ was your one-and-done," he says seriously.

Kate smiles and leans over to kiss him. She curls her hand behind his head, holding him close to her. "But that's the beauty of it, Castle. You _are_ my one-and-done."

"Mm," he hums. "But we can't whitewash the past. I just wanted you to know how special you are to me, how special our marriage is going to be. There is no one like you, Kate. You are a one-off and you deserve the best. Having you wear my grandmother's ring is my way of telling you that."

"What about Alexis? Won't she want her great-grandmother's ring? It is a family piece after all."

Castle shrugs. "So we leave it to her, not to be too morbid. Look, some…tech entrepreneur or vegan, bee-keeping farmer will give her a ring of her own one day…hopefully, a long time in the future."

Kate blanches at the thought. "Yeah, let's get our own wedding out of the way before that happens."

They lie down again, face-to-face. Castle strokes her arm. "I love that you're all in, Kate. I love that you're so excited, that you look so happy. If only I'd known…"

She touches his lips. "Shh. No regrets. No looking back. I've done enough of that to last a lifetime. Believe me, it just gives you a crick in your neck and prevents you from seeing the joy that's right in front of you."

Tenderly, Castle brushes the hair off her face. He's replaying what she's just said when a mischievous thought occurs. He looks down at his lap. "The joy that's right in front of you, huh? Well, I've never heard it called that before. But would you like to play with my joystick, detective?"

Their laughter can be heard all the way out in the hallway.

 _TBC..._

* * *

 _A/N: Thank you for continuing to support this story. It has grown arms and legs along the way. You've all been great cheerleaders. Keep it up! I'll post a photo of the engagement ring on Twitter. Liv_


	17. Chapter 17

**_Slow Burn_**

 _Chapter 17_

They finally fall asleep around one thirty.

Castle turned the air conditioner off and they opened the French windows, leaving the curtains slightly parted to allow fresh air to seep inside. They grin at one another in the dark, heads on pillows, eyes glittering like nuggets of coal as they lie, resting, face-to-face for the first time.

"You're so beautiful," Castle says. He strokes her cheek and presses a kiss to her forehead. His soft lips linger against her warm skin for several breaths until her eyes slip closed.

"Thank you," she replies. She grasps his wrist before he can take his hand away, squeezing for emphasis, meaning so much more than gratitude for this compliment. "Thank you for staying the course, for hanging in there while I got myself together. You have this… _amazing_ knack for making the impossible seem possible, Rick. Don't ever leave that behind."

When they finally drift off, the night air and the day's excitement give rise to vivid, surreal dreams. Physical exhaustion keeps them under until Kate wakes for no reason just after four. She knows where she is, there is no nightmare expelling her from sleep, but she's grateful for the quiet, pre-dawn moment anyway. She rolls over onto her side to watch her partner sleep. Castle is the stillest she's ever seen him, sacked out on his stomach with his face mashed into the pillow.

She reaches out to him, hovering her hand close to his head. She wants to touch his hair again, to feel its youthful silk, its fragrant welcoming softness against her hand just as good as she had imaged it, but she is fearful of waking him.

What little light there is steals in with the dawn and catches her engagement ring. The diamonds flare with a sweeping flash like the beam from a lighthouse while the emerald glows like a phosphorescent sea. Kate is absorbed by their beauty and by the family history behind the beautiful ring. She resolves to sit down with Martha as soon as she is able to ask this strong, determined, resourceful woman everything she can remember about her own mother. That Castle chose to give this family heirloom to her when two other wives have come before provides a strange kind of comfort and pride. That he believes her a worthy keeper of this family ring proves to her they _are_ each other's one and done, and let the past be damned.

Though she is utterly silent as she admires the ring and its giver alike, Castle seems to sense her watching him. He slowly blinks his way from sleep into wakefulness and then comes the smile. A big, beautiful smile.

"Hey," he says, languidly, his voice hoarse with sleep. He absorbs her features with such care that it can only be love, the deepest, best kind of love that comes from knowing you have found your soul mate. "Mm," he hums, reaching for her.

Kate rolls over and surrenders to the power of his arms when he draws her across the mattress in against his warm body, wrapping her up like a human burrito in an embrace she feels she is experiencing for the first time.

They snuggle into one another, her back against the smooth, broad wall of his chest. The remains of her perfume and a faded trace of his cologne mingle with the sharp scent of sweat and sex that waft up from beneath the warm sheets to tickle Kate's nose. She wiggles her ass and he shimmies his hips until they slot together perfectly, his knees tucked into the back of hers, his arms around her arms, a heavy hand settled on her stomach. They make sounds of contentment to be together like this. At its core, it's such a simple thing, but it feels more precious than many more "valuable" things they might possess between them.

Castle nudges his chin into the dip between Kate's neck and her shoulder joint. "I love this," he whispers and she nods, adding a simple, "Mm, me, too," to the early-hour discussion.

"Were you watching me sleep just now?" he asks playfully, running his finger around and around her navel.

Kate smiles and squirms but doesn't answer right away.

"I can feel you smiling, Beckett," Castle says, giving her a squeeze.

"Yes," she admits, wriggling again. "Okay, yes. I was watching you sleep."

"I guess it is kind of a novelty, so I'll let you off this time."

Castle can't see her face, but her eyebrows flare upwards with the arrival of a sudden memory. "It is a novelty," she says slowly, "but it's not the first time I've watched you sleep."

His face appears beside hers. "What? Oh, do tell."

Kate's smile widens. "Yeah. You remember when we were cuffed together in that dirty basement?"

"Mm. With a tiger for a next-door neighbor. Put me right off Frosted Flakes."

"Yes, but before the tiger. I woke up first. I was lying beside you and my hand was on your chest. I didn't know where I was at first, and…" She hesitates.

"What?"

"You were so hard to rouse. It must have been the drugs."

"Wait til morning then tell me if it's the drugs," Castle jokes.

"Good to know. Anyway, when I tried to wake you, you mumbled, "don't get up yet, stay in bed" as if that was something we did all the time. The way you said it was so sweet." She smiles as she remembers that day. "It was as if we were together in the dream you were having...as if we were simply picking up a conversation midway through. When I said your name, you were smiling, and then you said, "Kate, hi," as if you weren't at all surprised to wake up next to me."

There's a brief silence before Castle sighs. He kisses her shoulder and says, "Wishful thinking, that's what that was. Wishful thinking."

"You remember that stupid chest freezer? The one we tried to move?"

"I remember your hot ass backed into my crotch when we tried to push that monstrosity. I've never had to try so hard to marshal my powers of self-control. The noises you were making!" He guffaws.

"Yeah, well, I think I _felt_ your powers of self-control. I felt something really hard anyway."

They chuckle and she twists in his arms. They lean in for a kiss at the same moment, still smiling so much that their teeth clash.

Kate stays close. She plays with his ear again. Always tugging on it as a punishment in the early days, now she strokes it as if seeking forgiveness. "Did you always want this?" she asks in a whisper. "For us, I mean. As an end game? Marriage…" She smiles softly. "Kids? Was that how you saw us down the line after we started working together? As a family?" She sounds shy and hesitant as she forces herself to pose this stilted list of questions that come out of her mouth like a sparse string of beads.

Castle strokes her hair and then tucks some of it behind her ear so that he can fully see her face. "I wanted you. From the second I laid eyes on you, I wanted you, Kate. But…that first night…"

"After I arrested you?"

She smirks, and they laugh and fall together, hugging, their bodies shaking as they giggle. "Yes. That first night and then on that first case, I _lusted_ after you. I mean, look at you." He eases back to skim his hand down her naked body beneath the sheet, staring until Kate snuggles back against him when the fresh air gets to be too much and she shivers. "What man wouldn't? You're beautiful, but you never use your looks…well, unless there are Russian mobsters involved and then all bets are off. You are so classy and yet so hot. But after that first case, I was all about your mind." He tries to stay straight-faced, but he can't for long and he laughs. "No, that's a lie. I was all about your hot body _and_ your hot mind."

"At least you're honest."

"I'm trying to be," he says in all seriousness once more. "And to go back to your question, you know how it is, there isn't a moment when you think: this is it. My respect for you grew from watching you work, how smart you were, how fair, how goddam tough. But I think my love for you came from a different place. It came from watching you with my daughter, how patient you are with my crazy mother, from seeing how you put up with me and all the bullshit I threw in your path."

She kisses his jaw and smiles against his skin. "Like never staying in the car?"

"Nothing ever happens _in_ the car, Beckett," he jokes before becoming serious again. "Later, it came from learning your story, how you fought your way through your grief to help others, realizing how hard life must have been for you and your dad. I felt so privileged when you let me in, so proud to call myself your partner and your friend. Forget the books. Working with you has been the most productive period of my life. I am at my best when I'm needed, and you gave me an opportunity to give something back. You are an extraordinary woman, Kate. You still surprise me every day."

"Long may that continue," she says, nudging his nose with her own and stealing another kiss. "Just wait til you see how bad I am at keeping the fridge stocked or remembering to collect my dry cleaning…that'll definitely surprise you."

Castle stills her with a finger to her chin. He looks into her eyes and says, "I don't need a wife, Kate. Not in any old school, Neanderthal sense. I'm not marrying a homemaker, though I do want to make a home with you. I just want to spend the rest of my life with you. I'll collect your dry cleaning. I promise never to leave the fridge bare. Let's just live each day and have fun, together. In between solving murders, of course."

"Mm. Yeah, we're gonna have to find a way through that H.R. regulatory nightmare."

"You think Gates might throw me out?" Castle says as if this hasn't occurred to him yet.

"I think we need to take a very close look at departmental regs. I'll get my dad to look into it. Quietly."

"After we tell him why we need him to do it, of course. I feel bad I didn't ask him for your hand."

"Castle, what were you just saying about not being a Neanderthal?"

"Yeah, but I'm also a dad. I'd be kind of mad if some guy Alexis was dating didn't come to me first."

Kate laughed. "What? So you can have a hit put out on him?"

"Laugh all you want. Us dads have to stick together. I'm sending your father a fruit basket or something to apologize."

"Gummy Bears," Kate whispers into Castle's ear before trailing her lips over his neck. She pauses beneath his jaw to suck lightly as if he is a sweet treat. "He likes Gummy Bears," she repeats, squealing when he tweaks her sides and she crashes her mouth against his.

Kate feels hot and achy when she wakes from another round of needy, languid sex that was actually the most loving, spiritual thing she's ever experienced. Castle touches her in ways, and in places, that no other man has thought to or tried. He opens her up, clichéd to say, like a proverbial flower, so that her limbs are loose, her sex aching for him with a deep, throbbing intensity she now craves and hopes will stick around forever. She gives her body to him with the kind of generosity and trust she has only ever seen performed by him. He is like a teacher to her in that way, a kind of spiritual guide, and to even think like this, given some of his past behaviors, has her laughing inside. But it is true, all of it.

They wake again at nine to a gentle tapping on the door of the suite.

Kate nudges Castle awake as she pulls the sheet up to her chest from around her waist for modesty's sake. "Rick, there's someone at the door," she hisses, prodding him again.

Castle grunts even as he sits up and swings his feet to the floor in the automatic response of a parent used to nightmares and bellyaches and early starts for school or camp.

"Put your shorts on!" Kate laughs when he heads towards the door buck-naked. "Here!" She finds his boxers at the bottom of the bed, balls them up and tosses them at his chest.

She's no sooner fluffed her hair, rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and piled some pillows up behind her than a uniformed staff member pushes a breakfast trolley into the room. The cart's wheels squeak in protest and the cutlery rattles like a xylophone as it mounts the threshold and slows its roll across the thick pile of the bedroom carpet. He brings it to rest over by the small dining table.

"We didn't order breakfast," Castle tells the young man. He looks at Kate for confirmation and she shakes her head automatically.

Kate really only has eyes for her partner. His hair is sticking up at the back, and the front has flattened down over his forehead. His bare legs show muscular thighs with well-developed calves, covered by a light coating of glossy hair. His belly is smooth and surprisingly taut, his chest broad and powerful, and those arms… She's so in love with him, inside and out, and it hits her hard in the chest, making her heart ache, making her fear just a little, since this is her Achilles heel, the pebble in her shoe that has prevented her from walking up to him time without number to take his face in her hands, kiss him senseless and just tell him how she feels.

She takes a deep breath and holds it for a couple of beats before letting go. Her heart continues with its rapid tattoo, but she is moving past that now. They are lovers. They are engaged to be married, no matter how crazy that might sound. They have chosen to do things back to front, the world is still turning, and she's in love with him, so much in love that her breath catches in her throat.

Castle tips the guy to get rid of him. He looks at her with concern as he hands her a note that was tucked into a bud vase of freesias stationed in the center of the cart. "You okay?"

She nods, swallowing down a painful lump of unattended grief, grief that still burns like undigested food, a painful regurgitation almost two decades after the fact: the night of her own last supper when she and her dad gaily ate dinner without her mom. Her mom who was already dead in an alley by the time their plates were cleared and the check paid.

"What's this?" she asks, because the room is still almost dark, the only light a sliver of sun cutting in through a gap in the drapes like the slash of a knife. She breathes again, slowly, deeply.

Castle walks to the windows and opens the curtains all the way. Sunlight streams in on a brilliant new day. Kate breathes out and unfolds the note. "Lanie sent us breakfast?" she says, looking up to find her fiancé stretching high and wide, his magnificent body filling the open balcony window.

"Stop right there! Don't move a muscle," she calls out to him, grabbing her phone off the nightstand and fumbling for the camera app.

Of course, Castle lowers his arms and turns to see what all the fuss is about.

"I said stay as you are, Mr. Castle," Kate demands, sounding so much like Detective Beckett that Castle does as he is told.

He raises his arms in another mock stretch. "You mean like this?"

They both hear the shutter click on her iPhone and Castle lets his arms drop. When he turns to face her, he's laughing. They both are. But Kate continues to take photos as he walks towards her. He has his stomach sucked in and he puts on an exaggerated wiggle of a walk, swinging his hips like a Victoria's Secret model.

When he gets close enough, Kate tosses her phone onto the bed and beckons to him. She grabs his hands and drags him to her. "You look really good in the morning. Good enough to eat," she says, licking her lips before she pulls him down on top of her and crushes her mouth against his.

Castle braces himself above her on those muscular arms she loves so much that she's seriously considering cutting the sleeves off a few of his button downs or creating a mandatory tank top Tuesday uniform policy for the bullpen. He grins down at her, sweeping in for tiny kisses, brief pecks on her lips, cheeks, eyelids, and nose. "If you're feeling hungry, I think your friendly neighborhood M.E. already took care of that."

"I can't believe Lanie sent us breakfast."

"With a bottle of champagne no less. But you need to have a word with her about what constitutes waking hours on a weekend."

"That girl always was an early riser."

Eventually, genuine hunger stops them making out and they get up. They push the tablecloth-draped cart over to the balcony doors and settle outside in the sunshine to eat, both dressed in matching hotel bathrobes.

"What did the note say anyway?" Castle asks.

Kate is sitting with one foot up on her chair, the other bare leg dangling as she scoops segments from a pink grapefruit with practiced skill. She has the sleeves of her robe pushed up above her elbows and she's naked underneath except for Castle's boxer shorts, which she stole from him before they got around to breakfast.

"Her note is kind of cryptic. Well, she'd like to think so. But we're detectives."

She passes the hand-written note to Castle. It reads, _Congratulations, Kate and Rick! Wishing you a successful partnership. May you solve life's mysteries as well as you solve crimes together. Love L &J xxx _

Castle looks up to find Kate smiling at him, a glass of champagne in hand. "Better do as the lady says and celebrate."

"But…how could she possibly know?" He seems baffled.

"I don't think we were very subtle on the dance floor." She pauses. "And I may have gone to see her after you proposed to me in the precinct on Friday."

"May have?"

She winces, wrinkling her nose. "Okay, I did. I went."

"What did Lanie say?"

Kate laughs at the memory of her friend's reaction. "She screamed. A lot. Like really loud. You'd have hated it."

"Hey, I'm used to teenage girls, remember. I'm probably immune at this point and deaf to their higher frequencies. But did she actually say anything aside from screaming?"

"She assured me that you were being serious when you proposed, and then she threatened to…I think she said, "tan that man's behind," when I told her about Javi bursting in on us." Kate's face becomes more serious when she says, "She also guessed I wasn't as happy just going to the wedding as your plus one as I was making out. She warned me not to let you get cold feet, either. She's the reason I came over to see you the other night."

Castle raises his own glass. "Then our toast should be to her for helping us see what's been right under our noses for so long."

"To Lanie," Kate says. "A great friend and the best maid of honor a woman could ask for."

"She's going to be your maid of honor?"

"Makes sense, right?"

"It does," he says with a slow, creeping smile that fails to mask his excitement over where they are now: that the woman of his dreams is already planning her wedding. He raises his glass. "To Lanie. Remind me to give her a big hug next time I see her."

Kate runs a bath and they soak in the tub together until the bubbles burst and the water goes cold, finally rinsing off in the two-person shower, taking advantage of the suite's every amenity before the time for checkout comes around.

Castle sits on the edge of the bed watching Kate apply her makeup. She's using a shaving mirror she brought from the bathroom and placed on the desk where natural daylight floods in through the balcony doors.

He's so restless with excitement that he's unable to sit still in one place. So he stands behind her chair and studies her with utter fascination, massaging her shoulders while she sits in her underwear, deftly wielding a mascara wand. "You used to say that staring was creepy," he reminds her, leaning down to kiss her neck.

The kiss tickles and she curls around him, tilting her head towards his and raising her shoulder to cocoon his face in against her neck. It's an automatic reflex – this leaning in - where in the past she might have pulled away. To watch her need him now, to see how much she wants to be with him, it brings tears to his eyes.

By the time it gets to noon, they're still running around the room hunting for Kate's discarded underwear and carefully folding her dress into Castle's larger overnight bag. He watches her wiggle into the jeans and button-down shirt she wore to the precinct the morning before when she went to the Twelfth to clear her workload to allow her to take a half-day off for the wedding. What she ended up with was a whole lot more than a half day's leave.

"I would have worn something a little fancier," she says, slipping her feet into ballet flats that leave her shorter than him for once, "had I known we were going to be on our honeymoon."

They both laugh at how ridiculous that sounds. But it is special, too. They are building a new level of intimacy, new shorthand, new memories that are private and exclusive to them alone. Pretty quickly in their work life, everyone around them could see the high level of synchronicity they shared, both in how their minds worked and in the words that came out of their mouths. Now they get a chance to take that perfect fit to a whole new level in their private lives.

When they go down to the lobby, only a few minutes late, Castle pays the bill and then he joins Kate out in the sunshine on the front steps of the hotel where he takes her hand.

If the powder blue Bentley hadn't been waiting for them out in the parking lot, the previous day and night might have felt like a wonderful dream. But their carriage awaits and it hasn't turned into a squad car or a pumpkin, and for that, they are immeasurably grateful.

The breeze picks up and confetti blows across the gravel in swirls like rainbow dust devils as they stand side-by-side on the hotel steps and look out at the car. Castle gives her hand a squeeze and tucks her into his side. He leans down to kiss the top of her head. "Ready to go back to real life?"

Kate looks up at him and smiles. "Real life is a place I really want to be. I haven't felt that way in a long time. Thank you, Castle. For giving that back to me."

He drops their bags at his feet and sweeps her up into a crushing hug, lifting her off her feet and slowly spinning her around. "You make my life complete, Kate Beckett," he whispers hoarsely into her hair before setting her back down and slanting his mouth over hers for a bruising, breath-taking kiss.

* * *

 _A/N: Not sure if this is complete or TBC. I had planned to carry on, but I'm not sure I'll be able to and I don't like to leave readers hanging. Let me take a few days to get to a better place and then we'll see. For now, thank you for reading, Liv_


	18. Chapter 18

**_Slow Burn_**

 _Chapter 18_

Kate walks in through her own front door and kicks it shut behind her. She pauses to drop her keys into the bowl that sits atop a little table that is stationed beneath a row of coat pegs in the entryway. The metallic clatter as the keys land and slide down the side of the maiolica bowl is jarring. Her head is full to bursting and she may have tossed her keys a little too hard, a mite too carelessly. She stops to inspect the bowl – a souvenir from a long-ago trip to Italy – her hands automatically performing the task because her mind is on bigger things. Thankfully the bowl is colorfully painted with a crackle glaze so crazed that minor chips do not show. She skims her fingers over its smooth, cool surface as if reading braille. Once she is satisfied that she's caused no lasting damage, she turns to face the empty living room.

Kate had always assumed that true happiness, when it finally arrived, would equal levity, a kind of weightless floaty feeling that would require daily, joyous effort to keep her feet on the ground. Today, she realizes that it is so much better than that. She feels a substantial weight pressing down on her, a warm solidity made of kindness and love, a kind of psychic handholding tethering her to the earth. This feeling of heft, of anchoring, is something she doesn't want to run or pull away from, and that surprises her.

For Kate, especially, this weight is what peace feels like, peace and safety, and it resurfaces now as a memory, a moment of déjà vu: her mother's kind face, the weight of her hands as she tucks her in at night, the image as clear as if she'd searched for the definition in an encyclopaedia and found Johanna's smiling face printed alongside.

She has found the ultimate escape in her partner, Rick Castle, but instead of freedom, it is a warm enclosure, a safe little cave where they can be their truest selves. Together they have tamed one another in ways both large and small, ways that no one could have predicted when they met four years ago. In the beginning, Kate chaffed while Castle champed, but in the end, each buffed away at the other's sharp edges until they became a perfect fit.

She drops her bag by her bedroom door and goes to sit down on the couch, momentarily winded by memories. She lays her hands flat on her thighs, side-by-side to compare. Her nails are neatly rounded and painted the pale pink color of shells, the veins on the back of her hands, the crinkles of skin over her knuckles, the scar she got when she fell off her bike when she was eight…all so familiar, all exactly the same. Her eyes are drawn to the ring, the beautiful emerald and diamond engagement ring that belonged to Martha's mother. Castle is giving her a family with this ring, adding her to his own history, a place on the Rodgers' family tree. He's slotting her into his life next to Alexis, and, here, too, the fit feels unexpectedly perfect.

She rubs the emerald with the pad of her thumb to clear a smudge and watches it glow a quiet, grassy green in the low afternoon light filling her apartment. The space is so quiet and that used to be what she loved about being here, about being home. She closes her eyes and sits for a moment longer, quietly meditating, slowly becoming aware of her breath, feeling her way through her body from her toes to the top of her head. Halfway up, her body aches from the recent intrusion of his, and she smiles, her face warming and her heart responding as these more recent memories flock back to her. Her thighs protest when she tightens her hamstrings and again she smiles.

 _He_ did this. _They_ did this.

Eventually, she opens her eyes, breathing out for as long as she can, holding her ribcage down, her belly soft and empty. By the time she is finished, her mind is clear. Her mind is made up.

In the bedroom, she quickly empties her bag. There's not much inside, just yesterday's underwear, which she drops into the hamper, her makeup bag, and heels from the wedding the day before. Castle still has her dress in his bag. She hopes he hangs it in his closet, not because it will wrinkle otherwise, but because she wants something of hers to hang beside something of his. That's just the way it is now and she's good with it. She's good with all of it.

The bedroom looks like a bomb went off in a clothing factory for the next half hour as she pulls shirts and t-shirts, pants and jeans, underwear, sleepwear, shoes, and boots from her closet and drawers to create a workable, interim, day-to-night, work-to-leisure capsule wardrobe. When she's done editing her clothing and footwear, she goes into the bathroom to collect her razor, shampoo, conditioner, and shower gel. In the end, she packs the razor and puts the rest back. She needs little more than her makeup bag, toothbrush, her curling irons, and brushes. The rest is heavy and largely immaterial. She wants to feel unencumbered. Castle's solid, loving presence is the only thing she has room in her life for right now.

In the kitchen, she empties the fridge of the few perishable items that remain then totes a single garbage bag to the small trash room down the hall. She waters her plants and wanders around her silent apartment turning off switches, unplugging lamps, her router, her phone.

A little over an hour after arriving, she rolls her carryon case to the front door, throws on a feather-light, silk parka, carefully lifts her keys from the maiolica bowl, and walks out the door.

* * *

She arrives at the loft within twenty minutes. As soon as she hears Castle's footfalls echoing on the hardwood floor, she has to take a deep breath. Her eyes are glued to his face when he opens the door: reading, absorbing, terrified she's doing the wrong thing though she is surer than she's ever been that what she's doing is rash but right. She's so high on him and her decision that she forgets to lead with any polite preamble and simply launches straight in. "I went into my apartment…" She's shaking her head. "...and I couldn't stay."

"What's wrong?" he asks, his face full of concern.

Unconsciously, she clenches her fingers into a fist and presses it over her heart. "I got home and it didn't feel like home anymore. Castle, it didn't feel like home because you weren't there."

She pauses for breath. Her hands are shaking and her heart is suddenly racing so hard that she imagines she will be able to see its jerky fibrillation beneath her chest if she just looks down.

Castle reaches out and takes the bag from her hand without a word. Then he walks around her to fetch the wheeled case that is propped behind her legs. Kate follows him with her eyes, twisting her body when he disappears from view.

"Come," he says quietly, beckoning her in with his head because his hands are full, to say nothing of his heart. "Come. Come on in."

When he dropped her off at her apartment a couple of hours ago, he kissed her slowly and deeply before he wished her goodbye. Neither of them had thought to make plans for later, too tired, too wired, too tied up inside their own heads remembering every nuance, every detail of the last couple of days. And perhaps they were settled, too, comfortable in the certain knowledge that there would be a "later" for them now. There would be years, decades of laters.

Castle had blown her a kiss at the curb, watched her swing her hips and her endless legs as she walked to the door of her building, his brain overflowing with first-hand knowledge of that amazing body. Then he had driven the Bentley back to the dealership, promising to return someday soon with his "good lady" to make a decision on the car. The dealer had looked at Castle with one eyebrow cocked when he patted the powder-blue convertible and said, "Come on, Ricky. You know you love her." To which Castle had smiled, his heart fit to burst as he had agreed, "Never a truer word spoken, my man. Never a truer word."

Kate follows him into the vestibule now. She closes the front door behind her and stops.

Castle has already moved over to the kitchen island, where he drops her bag and props up her wheeled case; he'll hold her luggage hostage if he has to. For the remainder of their time apart, he kept himself busy by doing laundry, making soup, he even cleaned his bathroom floor to stop himself from picking up the phone and calling her or sending a text, worried that to do so might burst the bubble they've been living in for the last twenty-four hours. As he worked, he was besieged with images of their night together. He could still feel the velvet of her skin moving over his, he could smell her, without even trying he conjured images that far surpassed the considerable skill of his imagination. He closed his eyes, breathed through his nose and quietly enjoyed the slideshow. When the accompanying sensations became too much, he cleared his head by scrubbing the floor tiles even harder.

"Rick?" Kate stands by the front door chewing her lip. "Rick, say something, please?" Her voice has an anxious edge to it that is the opposite of the calm serenity and clear resolve she found as she meditated in the quiet of her own place.

Castle hears this note of panic and he turns towards her, smiling. "Come here." He beckons to her once more. "Kate, love, come over here," he says softly, nodding encouragement for her to do just that.

It's the sound of his voice breaking on this beautiful term of endearment that has her rushing towards him. He opens his arms, engulfing her, and they both emit a sound that is part painful cry for all the years they have spent beside but without one another and part joy for the future that stretches in front of them now.

"I missed you," he whispers hoarsely, kissing the top of her head before burying his face in her hair and inhaling deeply. "I missed you, but I didn't want to call and harass you in case you needed space."

She tucks herself into his body, slotting her head beneath his chin, her arms wrapped tightly around his trunk. When a tear wets her cheek, she isn't sure if it came from him or if it's one of her own. When he holds her even tighter, squeezing hard, she laughs and hiccups a watery sigh. "You just saw me two hours ago."

But this bravado is false, and they both know it. She missed him as desperately as he missed her. When she kisses him, the gentle softness of her lips brushing over his, the warm, damp peek and tentative tease from the tip of her tongue turns white hot very quickly.

"Are we alone?" she asks breathlessly as he whips her t-shirt over her head and tosses it to the floor while simultaneously popping the button on her jeans.

She's unable to control the curse word that turns the air blue when he merely nods because his mouth is too full to answer, lips already covering her nipple, sucking hard, his free hand kneading her other breast, greedy fingers easing damp lace aside before he abandons this pursuit to slip his hand inside her underwear and cup her. He is like a man presented with so many delicious options he wants to sample the entire feast at once.

Later, lying in his bed with her butt propped up on a pillow, his head between her parted thighs, she cries out, back arching, shuddering uncontrollably as he works her to a frenzied peak with his fingers and his tongue. Tears roll into her ears and hair and she swipes them away with the back of her hand.

He abandons his post, crawling up the bed until her naked body is splayed beneath his. "I have condoms in the nightstand," he whispers, gently kissing her forehead. "We should probably…" He trails off into uncertainty, which Kate reads as clearly as only she could.

She looks up into his eyes, eyes that have turned the darkest navy blue, a color she associates with moments of high emotion, a trait that is unique to him. She skims his jaw and the seam of his mouth with her fingertip and softly says, "I thought we talked about this last night? I'm okay if you're okay?" She smiles, her eyebrows rise, and there's a spark of girlish excitement lighting up her face. "Fancy playing Russian roulette with me, Castle?"

Sweat beads their skin. The bedroom is a golden cocoon around them as the sun finally sets. Labored breathing broken by the odd sigh or grunt and murmured, loving nonsense are the only sounds. With every rock and thrust their faces slacken in awe that they are home now and it's still so magical. This is not some sexy, exciting, unplanned night in a hotel room; this is real life. She came home to him, she packed her stuff and came running…he clutches her tighter, thrusts deeper, she kisses him hard, her eyes flare wide, she cries aloud…and he didn't even have to ask.

Peace and contentment find her when she is anchored once again by the weight of him moments after they have both come.

Castle kisses her stomach and nudges the underside of her breast with his nose. He breathes in deeply; he likes to smell her. Of course, he does. She can tell that he has something to say, so she stays quiet and waits for him to speak up. He circles the small scar between her breasts with his tongue before pressing a kiss to this spot, too, and it's as if he's breathing life back into her when he closes his eyes tightly and his brow furrows in concentration, or maybe he's saying a prayer. A prayer of thanks that they both survived long enough to make it here, to Nirvana.

Eventually, he clears his throat and lifts his head to look at her. "So…um…those bags out there by the kitchen counter. You didn't bring much. Flying visit? Traveling light? Or…are you here to stay?" he hesitantly asks.

Kate pushes up onto one elbow so that she can look him in the eye. She cards her fingers through his hair and he leans into her touch. "I want to be with you, Castle. Wherever that is." She scratches his scalp and his eyelids flutter closed with the blissfulness of her touch. "I'm tired of us being apart. But if this is all happening too fast…"

Like the back-alley exit from some seedy bar left propped open by a crate of beer, she makes an escape route clear to him.

But Castle shakes his head in disbelief. God, how he loves this version of her. He kisses her shoulder and strokes her hair. "Seriously, Kate? You even have to ask?"

She nods and offers a lazy smile, palming his jaw when he crawls up over her body to steal another lusty kiss.

"I've spent four years wanting you under my roof, under _me_ ," he adds with a cheeky, mischievous look in his eye. "Just the thought of being able to say, "Hey, Kate, leave the dishes and come to bed." That right there is the stuff of dreams."

"Yeah, _in_ _your dreams_ ," she says, laughing and swatting his chest. "How come _I'm_ the one doing dishes in this fantasy of yours?"

But he waves her complaint away with a grin and a murmur of, "Details. I'll arrange for movers to come this weekend if you're cool with that. We can pack up your place together. I'm sure you want more of your things around you than whatever's in those two bags." He grins again, devilment on his face when a sudden thought occurs. "They're full of lingerie, aren't they? That's it. You brought your entire collection."

She throws her head back and laughs. "Maybe," she says, trailing her finger down his arm. "You'll have to wait and see. But there's only one thing on my mind, one thing I can't do without." She smiles this sexy, predatory smile he's only just met and already loves and disappears beneath the covers.

Later, they lie dozing under his quilt, side-by-side in his bed for the last first time.

"You're moving in with me," he whispers in the dark with the wonder of a child before Christmas. "I can't sleep I'm so excited."

Kate chuckles quietly. "It is kind of exciting. Yeah," she agrees, snuggling into his side.

* * *

 _A/N: I'm fighting on. I really appreciate all the messages of support for the story, of gratitude, the understanding that to write these stories takes an enormous amount of thought, emotional energy and time. Again, no TBC but my head is whirring constantly with next, next, next. So, hopefully, there will be more to come. As always, love to hear from you. Liv_


	19. Chapter 19

**_Slow Burn_**

 _Chapter 19_

Kate wakes with a start in the middle of the night at the sound of a door slamming. Like a gunshot, the noise reverberates through the hollow quiet of the loft. In their bedroom, city light bleeds in through the gauzy curtains and the shutters they neglected to close before falling asleep, causing cantaloupe-colored stripes to roll out across the dark-wood floor and disappear.

"Castle!" Kate hisses as she reaches for him. The loft, even the bedroom, still feels like his domain though she has technically moved in. Also, her gun is in her overnight bag, which has yet to make its way from the kitchen to the bedroom because they chose to spend hours last night engaged in more pleasurable pursuits than unpacking.

Castle mumbles in his sleep, apparently unconcerned by the noise.

"Rick!" she whispers, shaking his bare shoulder to wake him.

" _Kaaaate._ " He smiles dopily. "Wassup?" Confused eyes blink at her as he tries hard to focus, both on her face and on what she's saying.

"I heard a noise," she says, pointing to the living room beyond the open-bookcase wall. "Out there."

If she changes one thing about the loft now that she has moved in, it may be this feature. Stylish as it looks, having sex, even sleeping, with what equates to library stacks for walls is a stretch, even for a bibliophile like her. The interruption to their sleep tonight is as good an example as any of the added privacy real walls would provide.

Before Castle can even sit up, they hear the signature clatter of high heels hitting a hardwood floor. This sound is accompanied by a giggle and then a drunken kind of shushing, though of whom they are not sure.

They turn to look at one another. "Martha," they both say, dissolving into giggles that have Kate reaching for a pillow. She hugs it to her face to stifle any sound, and once her hilarity is under control, she says, "Should you check on her? Make sure she's okay?"

Castle flops flat on his back and throws his arms above his head. "She's been doing this my whole life. She knows her way around the furniture blindfolded. Don't worry. I'll have a word about curfew first thing tomorrow," he says, yawning.

Kate stares down at his body and her mouth begins to water at the sight of his muscular arms cast up towards the headboard, his bare chest and stomach kissed by the light from the window. She quickly loses interest in the geriatric walk of shame taking place out in the living room. She's going to marry him. The sex they've been having is the best she's ever experienced, she loves him like no man she's ever been with, they've been tested and then some, and she's going to marry him. Soon.

She lies back down beside him and stares up at the ceiling. Eventually, she rolls onto her side and says, "Does Martha know?" She holds up her hand and wiggles her fingers so that the diamonds catch the light. They twinkle like stars against the night sky of the bedroom ceiling. "About this?"

Castle reaches out to touch the engagement ring for himself. He twists the gold band so that the emerald sits square on her finger then he appears to admire how perfect it looks on her hand. It does look perfect.

Kate gently touches his arm. "Rick?"

"She gave it to me right after I broke up with Gina." He sneaks a glance at Kate's face to assess whether he should continue. She strokes his arm and he takes this tender gesture as an encouragement.

"Which time was that?" she asks dryly. She shakes her head immediately, appalled by her unfiltered tongue. "Sorry. That sounded…I…just trying to clarify," she struggles to explain.

"The timeline?" he says and they both laugh.

She nods. "Yeah, something like that. You two have a long, complicated history."

"Some people might say the same about us," he whispers against her cheek before kissing the tip of her ear.

"Mm. Maybe," she says skeptically because Gina and Castle's relationship is infinitely more complex, even if that is just from a legal standpoint. They have been married and divorced and, after weathering a second-chance breakup, she is still his publisher. Complex with a capital C.

"It was after that disastrous trip to the Hamptons," he clarifies.

Kate's eyebrows shoot up, her face warms, and her heart begins to beat a little faster. "Oh," she says, remembering that time, unable to hold the soft exclamation inside.

"What?" He laughs nervously. "What does that mean?"

Kate bites her lip and presses her face into his arm. "Tell me what Martha said when she gave you the ring."

"Tell me what that "oh" meant and I'll trade," he bargains.

She thinks for a moment before she says, "Okay, but you first."

Castle kisses her shoulder and curls his body around hers as he begins to recount the tale. "So…my mother thought the reconciliation with Gina was…ill-advised. Big surprise. She⏤" He pauses. "Do you really want to hear all of this?"

Kate pulls his arm tighter around her and wriggles in his embrace. His feels big and warm and safe lying behind her and she loves him so much that her heart aches. "Just tell the story, Rick," she scolds, smiling at his gentle, sweet stalling that is only designed to protect her feelings.

"Okay," he sighs. "When I came back from the Hamptons after that disaster with Gina, mother sat me down and basically told me to sort myself out."

Kates makes a sucking sound through her teeth. "That must have been hard. Nobody likes to fail at a relationship."

She feels Castle shake his head. "That wasn't a relationship. I mean it is in the sense that she's my publisher, in the sense that that is, in fact, a relationship. But not in any romantic sense."

"You seemed pretty loved up when you left the precinct with her." The air goes still when these words fly out of Kate's mouth and into the darkened bedroom to circle, uninvited, over their heads, deftly avoiding everything in the silence that follows until they finally come home to roost, as unwanted as a pipistrelle in a barn conversion.

"Wow! Where did that come from?" Castle asks. He sounds shocked, and when he tries to move to get a look at her, she holds him fast because she can't let him see her face.

"Later," she says, but her eyes are screwed shut and she's berating herself internally for the bitterness and the hurt in her voice, hurt that lingers all these years later. It's ridiculous, she knows, they're engaged for God's sake, but it still pains her to think back on that time, to imagine what might have been if she'd only been braver, spoken out, stood up for what she wanted. She's not getting any younger and the thought that all the time in between, when they remained merely friends, might have cost her the chance to have a family with this man...

"Were you jealous?" Castle asks, like a bloodhound on a scent trail. "Back then?"

Kate ignores the question and clears her throat as she tries to deal with this barrage of stale emotions. "The ring? Where did the ring fit in?" she asks.

Castle pauses for a moment. He's clearly deciding whether to carry on with the story as she asks, or dig into the mystery Kate has revealed. When he hears her whisper, "Please?" he gives in. "I had never seen the ring before that day," he says. "She brought me the little box, opened it and showed it to me, and when I asked her about it she simply said that it belonged to her mother and that it was time for me to have it."

"Wow!" Kate whispers, holding her hand out to admire the ring as he speaks.

"Mm. She said that I should keep it safe until I was ready to give it to the right person. My head was such a mess."

"Because of Gina?" Kate interjects, her vocal chords taut as a garrotte even at the idea that this might be true.

Castle falls silent, and Kate tries to see his face. He drops his chin forward to kiss her neck and nuzzle his cheek in against hers. His eyes are closed when he says, "No. Missing you as a matter of fact."

Neither of them says anything for what seems like a long time. Eventually, Kate breaks the silence. "Please, tell me everything," she whispers.

Castle takes a deep breath. "I asked her how a man with two ex-wives and a history like mine could possibly know what the right person would look like. But she took my hand and said something supportive like, Oh, pull yourself together, Richard. You already know who she is."

This startles Kate, and so this time she turns around to face him. "What did she mean?"

He smiles at her, takes her face in his hands and kisses her softly. "She meant you, of course."

Kate curls her fingers around his wrists, holding him there. "But that was two years ago."

He laughs quietly and brushes her hair over her shoulder. "You mean, what took me so long?"

* * *

When Castle wakes the next morning, he is alone in bed in the silence of the still-sleeping loft. There is a moment of white-hot panic, a rush of blood to the head when he fears that the last few days have been nothing more than a cruel-but-wonderful dream. Then he rolls over and sees the dent Kate's head has left in the pillow. Follow the evidence, he thinks to himself, pressing his smiling face against the silky fabric to inhale the traces of her scent that have been left behind on the pillowcase. When he hears the hiss of water in the en-suite as the shower comes on, blood rushes elsewhere in his body leaving him lightheaded and painfully aroused.

The shower sex is dangerous but amazing. Kate smiles and her eyes glitter with delight when she first sees him enter the bathroom through the fog of steam. It's abundantly clear that he wants her, badly. He asks permission to join her, which is sweet and polite, but what she really wants is for him to presume, to come to her without asking, to surprise her from behind, his still-cool hands possessively roaming over her body, which is hot and slick from the shower, and already scented by his soap. She wants him to nudge up against her, his large hand spread flat on her stomach as he holds her still, tilting her pelvis back towards him while he pushes himself between her cheeks and grinds a few times, sliding back and forth until she shudders, so close, too close, forcing her to call out his name and beg him to stop. She wants him to grip her hips then, to bend her over, make her spread her legs wide, her hands braced against the steam-coated tiles while he touches her, stroking her to feel how much she wants him, thick fingers spreading her arousal liberally before he finally nudges closer and enters her from behind.

She is explicit about her fantasy this time and he follows her directions to the letter, so that next time…

Her face is flushed and her eyes still shiny with the post-coital rush of endorphins as they towel one another off. Her hair hangs in wet strands that clump together and soak the rosy skin on her shoulders and chest.

Castle scrubs his hand over his jaw, rasping the two-day-old stubble. "I'm gonna to have to shave," he says. He leans down to steal another kiss, soothing Kate's reddened chin with his thumb. "Your poor face. I have aloe in the cabinet if you need some."

She cuddles him, her whole body draped over his, steam still rising off their skin while he carefully assembles his razor, a can of shaving gel, a towel. "I have makeup in my bag. Don't worry." She inspects her chaffed face in the mirror over his shoulder. "I'll have this covered up in no time."

She hugs his chest and presses kisses to his spine between his shoulder blades before letting go. "You shave. I'll be right back. Then we can make breakfast together before I have to go into work."

Castle groans at mention of the precinct and she laughs. "You don't have to come in with me. Stay home. Write. You can be a house husband today," she teases, grinning at him in the mirror.

His expression is stunned when she smacks him on the ass. She dodges out of reach and runs out into the bedroom giggling, having stolen his bathrobe from the hook on the wall.

* * *

Had she been paying attention, the scent of coffee should have been a warning to her. Martha is sitting quietly in the kitchen, but Kate fails to see her at first. The older woman is seated at the counter on one of the high stools nursing a china cup. Kate's wheeled case and overnight bag sit abandoned by her feet making it look as if Castle's mother is moving out instead of his bride-to-be moving in.

"Martha!" she exclaims, tugging Castle's robe more tightly over her chest and securing the belt.

Kate's feet and legs are bare and her hair is still wet; it doesn't take a genius to figure out what she's just been up to with Martha Rogers' son. The damn porous walls probably gave all the intimate details away in any case. But Martha is a consummate pro, a romantic, her son's greatest champion, and a worldly-wise human being. She navigates any awkwardness with ease.

"I made coffee. You look like you could use some, my dear. I know I did," Martha says, her penciled eyebrows rising to convey so much more meaning than her words.

Kate smiles shyly and gratefully. She finds a mug in the cabinet and pours herself a cup. She stands on the other side of the counter facing her future mother-in-law. She takes a sip; it tastes divine. "How much…do you know?" Kate asks hesitantly.

Martha's eyes track slowly downwards from Kate's face until she is looking at her hands, which are wrapped around the porcelain mug. She's wearing the emerald and diamond engagement ring. "Enough," she replies, smiling serenely.

"Which means?" Kate probes.

Martha pauses for a long moment before she says, "My son has never loved another woman like he loves you. Do you know that? He has many faults⏤"

"As we all do." Kate jumps in to Castle's defense.

"Indeed," Martha agrees. "But he is a good man."

"The best."

Martha nods. "He is loyal, braver than I ever imagined him to be thanks to you. He's patient despite first appearances, and he loves you with all his heart."

"I know, Martha," Kate says quietly. "I love him, too. And I wanted to thank you for trusting me with this beautiful⏤"

Martha holds up her hand to cut her off, surprising Kate. "Darling…please, let me say this?"

Though she already knows her to be outspoken, Kate is slightly horrified by Martha's blunt approach. "Of course," she says, giving way to the older woman.

"Don't hurt him. Please? That's the only thing I ask. He means the world to me. You both do, actually. But my son deserves happiness, _really_ deserves it, more than anyone I know, except for you. He's such a good man, a kind, and generous soul. I know you won't take advantage of his good nature as others have done. But be good to each other, Katherine. Be gentle and kind. Marriage is a long road."

Before Kate can find the words to respond, Castle comes breezing into the living room dressed in boxer shorts and a t-shirt. His face is freshly shaved, his skin glowing. The atmosphere in the loft is immediately lighter because that's what Castle does: he brings light into people's lives.

"Mother," he says, kissing his mother on the cheek. "Behaving, I hope?" His eyes cut to Kate for confirmation, or otherwise.

Imperiously, putting on something of an act Kate is surprised to note, Martha swirls a hand through the air. "Just building a little dramatic tension before I wish you both congratulations," she says, catching Kate's eye and winking. "I'm so happy for you, darling. So happy for both of you," she insists, herding them to her for an unexpected group hug.

"Did she haze you?" Castle whispers in her ear a little later as they stand next to one another at the stove making scrambled eggs and buttering toast.

Still slightly in shock after Martha's speech, Kate turns her head sharply to look at him. "How did you know? Is that her thing?"

Castle smiles and bumps her hip. "The look on your face, and no, she's never shown this much interest before."

Kate nods thoughtfully. She thinks for a moment, stirring eggs with the happy sound of Castle's humming in her ear. Suddenly, she realizes what it means - why Martha felt the need to speak out - because she can feel it deep within her, too. "Third time's a charm," she says confidently, watching her partner's face break open until he radiates pride, love, and the purest joy.

"Third time's a charm," he repeats, leaning down to kiss her.

* * *

A/N: Loving the messages. It's a great encouragement to hear your thoughts on the story's direction and to hear from people who've never reviewed before. Keep them coming and I'll endeavor to keep writing. Liv


	20. Chapter 20

_"If only if only you'd ask me again_  
 _I'd give you my hand_  
 _Let you take me_  
 _Across the sand."_

 _– Into The Blue, Sara Jackson-Holman_

* * *

 ** _Slow Burn_**

 _Chapter 20_

When they arrive at the precinct on Monday, the bullpen is abuzz with gossip about the Ryan's wedding: who danced with whom, who went home with which bridesmaid, who got so drunk they fell over taking a waiter and a tray of drinks down with them.

Castle and Beckett are apart from it all, breathing their own air inside an iridescent bubble of happiness. Kate sits at her desk attempting (pretending) to read files while Castle sits in his chair distracting her with more success than he achieved over the last four years combined.

"Yo! Earth to Mama and Papa bear!" Esposito yells, catching them with their heads together, fingers touching, their faces made stupid by soppy smiles.

They spring apart.

"Can I do you, Espo?" Kate blurts sending Castle snorting into his coffee cup. She looks livid though she is in fact embarrassed when she scrambles to issue a correction. Her hot eyes are trained on her partner's smirking face when she says, "I mean, _what_ can I do for you, Esposito?" in a rather imperious tone. But as soon as she gets the words out in the correct order she has to resort to biting her lip to stifle her own laughter.

Esposito shakes his head at them and wanders off to the break room to get more coffee, muttering to himself all the while.

"Missed you both at the reception the other night," Gates says in her steely voice on a rare foray out of her office. "Mr. Castle you in particular."

Castle sits up straight, his face, at first slackened by surprise, lifts into a proud smile at the implied compliment. He fails to spot the glint in the Captain's eye and therefore the trap. He should know by now that with Gates there is always a trap. "Mm," she hums disapprovingly when he taps his chest, gesturing to make certain that she means him and not some other Mr. Castle. "There was cake. Very. Good. Cake. Not like you to miss out on an opportunity like that."

Kate turns her head away but that is insufficient, it isn't working, and she has to grab her open file and stand. She's choking on laughter as she mumbles something about a photocopy and hurries away leaving Castle mystified and alone in the bullpen.

Castle corners Kate in the copy room. "Did she just insult me? I think she just insulted me? Is that the height of my reputation around here? The guy who likes cake? Am I just a joke to everyone?" The hurt in his eyes tells Kate that it's time to put an end to this line of teasing once and for all. She has something to tell him, something she should have shared a long time ago.

She dumps the file she'd been pretending to copy and takes him by the hand, leading him back down the hallway towards the break room where she stops rather abruptly. Castle crashes into her. To steady them both his hands briefly land on her hips until images from their shower scene this morning flood back to scald his eyelids, and he whips his hands away as if Kate is a white-hot coal, which is not too far from the truth.

When she turns to face him, her expression is as serious as his from just a moment ago. "Okay, you have to listen to me. You know who was a joke around here?"

Castle frowns, at an utter loss to see where this might be going. Thankfully, Kate's question is rhetorical and so she motors on without waiting for an answer. She lowers her voice so that only Castle can hear. "Remember last night when we were talking about your disastrous trip to the Hamptons with Gina? Well, there was something I didn't tell you, something I really should have said. You asked if I was jealous?"

"And I noticed you didn't answer," Castle admits. "Since a gentleman never presses a lady for a compliment, I let it drop." He follows this up with an eager, "So…were you? Jealous?"

Kate crosses her arms defensively and scuffs the floor with the toe of her shoe. "Add heartbroken, embarrassed, and sick to my stomach to that list and you're getting close to how I felt when you walked away with your arm around her."

She looks up at him, watching her words sink in. Then she frowns and shakes her head, dissatisfied with her own description. "Actually, none of that even comes close to how bad I felt that day, Castle." She prods him in the shoulder, hard, and he pulls back, crying, "Ow!" and rubbing at the sore spot.

She gestures behind her to the break room, remembering the happy scene that took place just behind the glass when Montgomery and the boys toasted their success in solving the case and a blissful summer full of romantic possibility seemed on the horizon. "We were celebrating…do you remember?"

"I remember you flirting with me. Lanie warned me against getting into a drinking contest with you, and you said, Oh, I don't need to drink to take him. That got my attention."

Kate tilts her head in surprise. "You remember that?"

"Word for word. You looked so sweet and, yet, so coy and sexy. The way you smiled at me when you slugged your beer…" He drifts off into a dreamy reminiscence.

"And when I asked to talk to you. Outside. Do you remember me stumbling my way through a… _painfully_ awkward conversation here in the hallway?"

He frowns again, trying to summon the scene so he might be able to unravel why she's telling him this, what was so important about that afternoon. "I recall you thanking me. That was kind of a rare event back then, a nice surprise. You said you'd had fun working with me."

"Yeah. Well, I was building up to this whole big announcement. I almost had the words out, too, and that was right when Gina walked in." She closes her eyes. "God, I was so embarrassed."

"What? _Why_ were you embarrassed? And what _exactly_ were you trying to say?"

She bites her lip then takes a deep breath. She raises her eyes from the floor to Castle's face. "I was trying to tell you that…um…I broke up with Tom." She pauses briefly when emotion swamps her because she feels as if she's right back there, in the middle of a do-over two years down the line. She hurries on even as Castle's eyes are widening. "I broke up with Tom so that I could go with you to the Hamptons, Rick. _That_ is what I was trying so hard to say. And when you left with her…" She swallows thickly. "I felt crushed. I felt crushed and embarrassed because I knew that Lanie and the guys were watching us and…" She purses her lips, shakes her head, and shrugs. "So…now you know. You're not the only one who's ever been a laughing stock around here."

He reaches for her, but she pulls away because talking about this again, on the very spot where it happened, makes it hurt even more. She lost faith in him that day and it took her a long time to recover. For the rest of that summer, when he didn't call and stayed away, she imagined all the fun he must be having, torturing herself with images of her partner and his ex-wife skinny-dipping in his pool, drinking wine on his deck at sunset then sleeping naked in his bed. She wondered if she had just been a warm body for him to cuddle up to and if Gina was just another warm body, too; if any woman would do. She second-guessed what she'd come to believe was a true connection between them, deciding for a while that she'd imagined it all. It knocked her confidence in herself, in her judgment, as well as her faith in her partner.

She also pulls away now because there are people nearby and they haven't exactly decided how to handle their relationship, their engagement at work.

"I'm so sorry, Kate," Castle says quietly. He rubs the back of his neck. "I was an idiot back then."

"Yes, you were," Kate agrees without hesitation.

He holds up a hand. "In my defense, you did turn me down a couple of times. And you were dating Demming, with vacation plans of your own, I seem to recall."

"What? So you couldn't _wait?_ " she asks, and it comes out as a terrible whine of hurt. "You couldn't stand to be alone for _one weekend_. You just had to go and hook up with your ex?"

"While you walked off into the sunset with Detective Robbery? No. I couldn't. And I'm ashamed to admit it, but Gina was my…poorly-judged backup plan," he mutters, eyes cast to the floor.

Kate puts her hand on her hip and juts out her chin. "How'd she feel about that? If she ever figured it out."

"Oh, she figured it out pretty quickly."

She smothers a smile. "Why? What happened? You didn't whisper my name while you were having sex, did you?"

"More like yelled," he says, ignoring Kate's shocked, delighted face to say, "But look…this is all ancient history." He glances around the bullpen then lowers his voice to a whisper. "We're engaged now."

She nods and moves closer to him. "My point exactly. So why are you worried what people think of you? Gates especially." She checks that no one is watching then she runs her knuckles down the front of his shirt and tugs on a button. "I chose you, Rick. I'm very proud of you. You're the best partner I could ever have. In work _and_ in life. That's all that should matter."

"It does. She just…" He makes a face, irritation resurfacing and he growls, "She rubs me up the wrong way."

Kate looks like she's thinking for a moment then she takes a deep breath. "Come with me," she says, taking his hand.

She leads him to the Captain's door. By the time Castle registers where this is heading, he's digging his heels into the worn floor like a cartoon character trying to hold her back or at least slow her down until she can come to her senses.

"You can't do this. You'll get me fired," he protests. "Beckett, remember how you didn't want to be at your place anymore because I wasn't there?" He nods his head once and waits for the penny to drop.

"You're not seriously suggesting I'll resign from my job because you're not sitting in that chair?" Kate asks, pointing over to her desk.

"Won't you?" He tilts his head. " _Why_ won't you?" he asks, sounding infinitely more hurt by that than by Gates' jibe about eating cake.

"Castle, it's my job. It's how I earn my living."

He starts to argue back. "But after we're⏤"

She grabs his sleeve and yanks him away from Gates' door. Maybe telling her about them right now isn't the best idea she's ever had. She wants more than anything to make Castle understand how proud she is to be with him, but perhaps this isn't the right way to go about it.

They sit back down at her desk, leaning close together to carry on their conversation. "After we're married I will _still_ be doing my job. You know me. I could never be some little woman at home, baking cakes⏤" When Castle glares at her, she holds up her hand. "Sorry. Too soon, I know. But cake-baking aside, my point stands. Nothing changes in that department once we're married. I'm not living off the proceeds of your hard work no matter the input I may have had to the creative process."

He grins and lifts one eyebrow. "By creative input you mean all the dirty fantasies you inspired, right?"

Kate laughs. "So…you feel better now?" she asks as her phone chimes. When Castle nods, she says, "Great. I just got a text from Lanie. She has an update for us on our John Doe. We're needed at the morgue."

* * *

They settle into a routine, though both settle and routine are not words that could ever apply to them. They eat life up, vigorously and with both hands is more like the thing.

Castle does as he promised and arranges for movers to meet them at Kate's apartment on Sunday. She spends quiet moments during the week making lists of things she wants to bring with her to the loft, things she wants to dispose of or donate, and every time she sits down to this task Castle sits somewhere nearby, watching her, enjoying the heck out of the sometimes serene, sometimes excited, but always happy look on her face.

She approaches him about beloved items of furniture, quilts or accent pillows with the expectation of someone about to enter a high-stakes negotiation. But Castle just hauls her against his chest, kisses her hair and tells her that whatever she wants to bring is fine. He'll throw all of his furniture out, start a bonfire with it if it'll make her happy. He just wants her living under the same roof, sleeping beside him at night, making love, whispering secrets and making plans for the future, a future he feared, many, many times over, that he might never see.

On Saturday morning, they arrange to have brunch with Kate's dad. Castle is still feeling guilty that he never got a chance to ask Jim for her hand before he proposed, and so he wants to make amends. He is also terrified.

"I don't know why I threw this in here when I packed," Kate says from the depths of his closet, "but I'm glad I did."

Castle is lying on the bed in his underwear, with his hands behind his head, watching the floorshow. Kate disappeared into the closet wearing only a pair of white lace panties. After the squeak and rattle of hangers, she reappears wearing a coral-colored sundress.

"Wow!" he says, sitting bolt upright to get a better look. "I don't remember the last time I saw you in a dress. We need to have brunch with your dad more often."

Kate smiles then she twirls for him, her arms held out from her sides. He wolf whistles and she ends her spin with an embarrassed giggle, feeling ridiculous until she sees the smile she's put on his face, the arousal lighting up his eyes, that fierce look of love and excitement.

"Come on." She throws his pants at him. "You don't want to keep my dad from his pancakes. That would not be a good idea."

Castle scrambles off the bed. "Rick!" she squeals, trying to turn and make a run for the closet before he can catch her, scoop her up, pin her to the bed and crawl back in with her.

They're late for brunch.

* * *

"Katie!" Jim Beckett stands from the booth he's secured to wave at her. The diner is busy and noisy and he has to dodge a few heads to catch his daughter's eye as they approach.

"You didn't tell him I was coming," Castle mutters. He has his hand on Kate's hip as they make their way through the crush of kids, parents, grandparents, and twentysomethings slumped in booths nursing a coffee and a hangover. By the time they emerge from the crowd, Castle's hand is in his pocket.

Kate doesn't have to confirm that she neglected to tell her dad Castle was coming to brunch, or that she failed to explain why she called the breakfast meeting in the first place, because it's written all over Jim Beckett's face.

"Katie," Jim says, banishing the expression of puzzled surprise to kiss his daughter on the cheek and pull her in for a hug. He whispers something in her ear that makes her blush, but it's too noisy in the diner to give Castle any chance of hearing let alone lip-reading what is said.

Kate turns to Castle, stunning him by holding out her hand. Jim stays silent, watching them closely as Castle takes the hand she's offering, allowing her to reel him into her side. "Dad, you remember Rick," she says, her hand now resting in the middle of his back as she presents her partner to her father. The blush on her cheeks deepens and her eyes light up when she looks at Castle. Her gaze darts down to his mouth before she can stop herself and her pupils widen. She takes a step back to give her father and her partner room to greet one another.

"Good to see you again, son," Jim Beckett says, giving Castle's hand a firm shake.

"Likewise, sir," Castle says, unexpectedly finding himself about as nervous as he's ever been.

"Katie failed to mention you were joining us. Last minute thing, was it?" he asks his daughter.

"Sorry to ruin your breakfast," Castle says. "We wanted to talk to you about something." Castle turns to Kate and she nods for him to continue. "Something important."

Jim looks from Castle to Kate and back again. "Okay," he says. "Well, then maybe we should sit. From the look on both your faces, I think at least I should sit. And, please, Rick, call me Jim? All that sir business makes me feel like an old man."

Jim sits on one side of the table and Kate ushers Castle into the other side then she slides in next to him.

"So…you two look about as nervous as a patent attorney in a bond court. If Katie wasn't so darned careful with money and you, Rick, weren't so…shall we say successful, I'd think you'd teamed up to ask me for a loan."

Castle laughs nervously, proving Jim's point. His knee is jackhammering under the table and he seems unable to stop it. He feels Kate's hand land on his thigh and she applies some reassuring pressure.

"Maybe I should go visit the ladies' room. Let you two talk."

Jim looked puzzled, but Castle's mind is swiftly made up at the thought of being left alone to tackle the formidable lawyer without Kate by his side. "We're getting married!" he blurts, surprising everyone, himself included.

A woman at the next table looks over and smiles. She claps her hands together and mouths, "Congratulations!" Kate smiles back and nods her thanks. Jim is in shock.

Castle tries to recover the situation. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to spring it on you like that."

Jim looks at Kate. He narrows his eyes. "I think my daughter had something to do with the springing, too. This isn't all on you, son."

Castle holds up his hands in a placating manner. "If I'd planned it properly, of course, I would have come to you in advance and asked for Kate's hand."

"How many times have you been married, son?" The question comes out of left field; it isn't what Castle is expecting at all.

"Dad!" Kate exclaims, scandalized.

Castle touches her arm. "It's okay. It's a fair question. Twice. I've been married twice before. Still on good terms with both my exes," he adds, though he's not entirely sure why this would be a comfort to any prospective father-in-law. He wouldn't find it comforting if Alexis presented a future husband with that kind of track record. He's an idiot.

"You don't have to explain yourself," Kate says quietly. "You really don't."

"No. It's okay, Kate, I want to." He turns to face Jim, who's watching them both like a hawk. "I love your daughter, sir. There is nothing I wouldn't do for her, no lengths I wouldn't go to protect her. Not that she needs my protection," he quickly adds. "She is simply the best thing that has ever happened to me, personally and professionally. I love her with everything I have. I owe her _so_ much. And I can honestly say, hand on heart, that I've never felt this way about anyone before. We are each other's best friend. We're on the same wavelength." He looks at Kate and laughs. "Well, most of the time. We finish…"

"Each other's sentences," she bumps his shoulder and chuckles, riffing off his slightly more relaxed state now that he's in his stride.

"We have fun together, as you can see. We work well together, we've been through hell together and we managed by some miracle to come out the other side still smiling, still…holding one another up. Sir, we've been tested and…we fought our way back to find one another again. Now, I just want the chance to spend the rest of my life making Kate happy. Because that's what she deserves. She is a wonderful human being. She's tough and strong, she's so smart, and she has compassion to burn. I know you know all of this already, but she still surprises me every day." He turns to look at Kate with so much love in his eyes. "So…I hope I can be there for her, holding her up when she needs it, making her smile. I will always have her back… _always._ You don't have to worry about that."

Kate leans into his side and drops her head onto his shoulder. He slips his arm around her, pulling her closer as he kisses her hair.

"Well? Dad, say something," Kate says, sniffing as she brushes away a tear and sits up straight again.

Jim watches them for a moment longer, gaze tracking carefully from one expectant face to the other. Eventually, he looks at Castle and nods. "That was quite some speech, Rick," he says in all seriousness. His voice is heavy with emotion.

Castle finds Kate's hand beneath the table and squeezes it. Kate squeezes back.

Finally, Jim Beckett cracks a smile. "I guess congratulations are in order. Do I get to see the ring?"

* * *

 _A/N: Thank you for your reviews and continued support. They really mean the world. Been listening to the song I quoted at the beginning of this chapter on repeat. It brings pleasure and painful memories both. Liv_


	21. Chapter 21

**_A/N:_** _Happy New Year._ _And on we go..._

* * *

 ** _Slow Burn_**

 _Chapter 21_

"Castle?" She can hear him singing in the shower, even with her head buried halfway inside a huge cardboard box.

He makes her smile all the time, she's discovering. No matter how stressful the domestic situation, the man can make her smile. In fact, she's laughed more in the last week than she can ever remember, and she has loved more, too.

She goes into the bedroom and pops her head around the bathroom door. The singing volume is a lot louder in here, amplified by the tiled walls and floor, by simple proximity.

"Rick!" she yells. "Have you seen my white shirts? I'm sure I unpacked them last night." There were six of them, still wrapped in plastic from the dry cleaner. She can't find them anywhere.

Castle's head appears amidst a cloud of steam from the huge, glass shower enclosure. When he sees her standing there in just her work pants, high-heeled boots, and a nude bra, he grins like a crazy person.

"I'm gonna deny all knowledge of your shirts' current whereabouts, detective if it means you'll accompany me to work this morning dressed like that." He makes his eyebrows dance like a marionette.

Kate shakes her head and reaches for a towel, which she tosses at her partner's naked torso. "Tell me where the shirts are…" She gives him a sexy stare, her hands on her hips.

Castle rubs his hair vigorously, pausing to ask, " _And?_ "

Not "or," she notes because he wants a reward not the threat of punishment.

She thinks for a second or tries to think like Castle who operates on a kind of childlike barter system. " _And…_ I'll book dinner Friday night. Somewhere…intimate."

"You'll wear a dress?"

She nods. "I'll wear a dress…and no underwear."

"Done!" Castle yells. "Shirts are in the closet. Third shelf down." As Kate rushes away, he calls after her, "Don't mess up my folding! I've got it looking like a SoHo boutique in there." He grins to himself while he finishes toweling off.

* * *

The weekend was more fun than stressful after they made it through brunch with Kate's father. Jim seemed immensely pleased for both of them when they announced their engagement. To Kate's relief, her father applied no pressure as to timeframe, no questions over a venue, guest list, or where she might look for a dress. It was refreshing, as much as it was tinged with sadness for the hole in their joy where her mother should have been. They haven't really had time to draw breath themselves to talk about what either of them has in mind as far as a wedding goes. But Kate is grateful for the calm, for the chance to get used to the huge changes life seems intent on sliding her way.

Sunday, they arrived early at Kate's apartment to begin boxing up her belongings. They worked from a list she spent the last week compiling. The movers came late in the afternoon, by which time they were both exhausted.

Castle started out as more of a hindrance than a help, using the opportunity to pick through Kate's things, stopping to look at books or ask for stories about odd little knickknacks she'd brought back from long-ago trips overseas.

When she asked him to empty her underwear from its drawer into a packing box, he was unable to do so without holding items up to the light, touching them, even pressing them to his face to inhale any lingering trace of her. When she caught him doing that she assigned him the more impersonal task of packing unwanted pots and pans for Goodwill.

By the end of the day, he'd gotten over this giddy spell and become an extra pair of willing hands, and a true ally; the cheerful, upbeat partner she'd come to rely on.

Kate sat down with him during a break for lunch. They ate sandwiches delivered by the local deli and drank coffee from to-go cups, curled up together on her sofa while an old movie played in the background. As the credits rolled, she gently reminded him that he would have all the time in the world to learn every silly story that came with her possessions as soon as they were safely installed in the loft. After that, he worked diligently from her detailed list, directing the movers to load all the items that were coming to Broome Street onto the back of the truck. The rest they arranged to donate or held back for bulk curbside pickup.

Once the apartment was empty, she took his hand, touring the space for one last time.

"Feeling a little sad?" he asked as they stood at the threshold to her bedroom staring at the space that had once housed her bed.

Kate shook her head. "Excited to move on." She turned to face him. "We have some good memories here. Both of us. More than you'd know," she said a little cryptically. "But we have new memories to make, and I'm excited to move on." She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

* * *

"Rick!" she calls out now from the kitchen where she's pouring coffee into matching travel mugs. "We're going to be late."

She's feeling tired, which is understandable given the physical workout and stress of the move, to say nothing of the hours they've stayed awake at night making up for lost time in bed. Castle is finding it particularly difficult to get up at the same time as her, though he insists that he wants to.

The change that has startled her most is her constant need to touch him. One off-hand comment – what if we were getting married – and now they _are_ getting married. It's as if she finally gave herself permission to feel again, and feeling again for Kate means touching her partner, wherever and whenever she can. She wakes in the night and finds herself turning to him, rousing him from sleep (and arousing him) with kisses, with the caress of her fingers, and, at five o'clock this morning, with her mouth.

She's learning so much about him, too. That he listens to classical music when he cooks. He spends more time at home being quiet and sitting still than she ever imagined him capable of. It's as if a switch flips when he comes through the front door of the loft and his batteries power down. And he's so patient, with his mother, with Alexis and her unending tribe of friends, and with Kate. He never snaps, never raises his voice, and he doesn't hold a grudge. No matter how tired or cranky the situation would make the average person, Castle remains cool, calm, and reasonable, always looking for a way to help, to fix whatever might be broken, to find a silver lining or a workaround. It is a special skill, a special kind of love he doles out to the world. She never thought it possible that she would fall more in love with him once she got to see him live his life up close. But she is, and each new revelation, no matter how small, feels like a blessing.

* * *

The call comes when they're in the car on the way to the precinct. A young woman has been found with her throat cut in an apartment on the Lower East Side. The dispatcher relays details of a report from the woman's neighbor of a man seen peering in through windows in the hours before the murder. Kate makes a sharp right, and they double back, heading south-east towards the scene in lower Manhattan.

They arrive at the location a few minutes behind the boys whose unmarked is parked at an untidy angle to the curb. Kate stopped saying, "Stay in the car," a long time ago. Her partner is still unarmed, but she trusts him to be careful even if today a strange uneasiness has begun churning her stomach.

The address they've come to is a rundown brownstone next to a narrow alley. It's one of only a couple on the block that has escaped the renovator's sledgehammer and the interior designer's paint chart. Kate gestures towards the garden-level entrance: a dark little doorway half-concealed beneath the stoop. The door is open. Raised voices come from inside, the angry sound amplified by the arch under the sandstone stairs.

She gestures to Castle. "Go around back," she whispers, taking off running for the open doorway with her gun drawn.

Castle knows he's being handled: given the safest, least fruitful (dangerous) position from which to see this one out. But for once, he does what he's told because, in truth, his head is in the clouds. He's going to marry her. He asked the question, she said yes and then she moved in with him. They share his bed at night and everything else in between, and he can honestly say that he's never been so happy in his entire life. _Ever._ Nothing he's tried in the past - the booze, the pills, the woman, scoring a table at the restaurant in the Eiffel Tower on Millenium Eve - none of those things have brought him the happiness that a bowl of popcorn and a movie on the sofa at home with Kate has settled in his bones.

The side entrance to the backyard is a high wooden door covered in blistered green paint, rotted and jagged as a broken saw along the bottom. Castle trots the length of the ivy-covered wall with his heart hammering, mostly because he is entirely in thrall to Kate. To Kate and him. Their future, their wedding, their lives unfurling like a red carpet in front of him.

With his brain supplying this photo album of happy images, he fails to hear the rustle of vegetation on the other side of the wall, the gravel-scratch of rubber-soled boots on cracked concrete. Blood is pounding in his ears, his mood like a medicated high, and so he misses the metallic clatter of a fumbled latch and the scream of rusty hinges before it's too late.

A bulky, dark figure bursts out of the yard and into the alley just as Castle comes level with the gate. For a heart-stopping second the two men stare at one another. Terror is etched onto both of their faces and they appear to freeze. The suspect they're hunting reacts first. With a sharp blow from his right hand, he pistol-whips Castle, catching him with the butt of a handgun on his left temple. He brings the weapon down hard. Castle is unable to duck or dodge. He barely feels the contact at first, the crack of pain as his neck takes the force, his head thrown sideways, his vision blurred to black. He drops to the ground a dead weight, no hands to save him, jaw clamped tight as a vice, the flesh of his tongue pinioned between his teeth.

When he comes too, the flood of pain steals his breath away. He coughs, confused, and wet, phlegmy bubbles issue from his mouth in a fine spray. He leans over and spits. Strings of bloody saliva wet the mouldy wall.

There's shouting behind him, men's deep voices. The pounding of boots on the ground syncs up with the drumbeat in his skull. He fears he's cracked a tooth. Gingerly prodding the area with his tongue unleashes a whole new world of pain and something warm trickles down his chin.

He startles when he hears a cry of disbelief, recognizing the voice behind the animalistic sound through the fog of pain. Warm hands cup his face, fingers run through his hair, desperately. He hears Kate stifle a whimper and a curse. Forcing his eyes open, because one of them is already swelling shut, he finds her kneeling on the ground in front of him. She's smiling bravely, but there are tears in her eyes, and when she pulls back a little to check him for further damage, he sees the blood on her fingertips and panics.

"Shh, babe," she says. "Stay still." She turns around and yells frantically to anyone who'll listen. "Call a bus. Get it here _now! Castle's down!_ "

He looks like a vampire. The blood is his, bright red and dribbling down his chin like a flash of wet paint. He _feels_ like a vampire caught out in daylight with his skull-splitting headache and the damage to his tongue.

Kate looks like she wants to hold him, but there are too many people around. So she settles for gripping his hand then gives in and goes back to stroking his hair.

The suspect who beat him is lying face down on the ground, Esposito's boot pressed into the small of his back while Ryan tightens the cuffs. The perp turns his head to look at Castle and grins. He has a worked-over face: a crooked nose, a chipped front tooth, a single teardrop tattoo hinting at a stint inside.

Kate gets in Castle's way when the toe of Espo's boot finds the guy's kidney, blocking his view of this vengeful brutality. But he's one of them. He'd do the same. They'd all do the same. They are a family.

The boys haul the guy to his feet in a hail of foul-mouthed protestation, to the accompanying wail of an approaching ambulance.

Kate sticks by Castle's side until the paramedics force her to move back, the male-female team demanding space to examine him before they load him onto a gurney for transport.

In the back of the ambulance, he struggles against the gurney's restraints, fighting to sit up so that he can look for her. He spots the cuff of her white shirt a few yards away, pristine fabric now stained by his blood, the collar like a halo, still glowing brightly around her velvet-smooth neck. She's doubled over in the alley, vomiting behind a stained and abandoned mattress, one hand on her thigh, bracing, the other twisting her hair into a tight, punishing knot. He watches until the throb in his head and the gloved-hand of a paramedic force him to lie back down.

Panic seizes him when blood starts to pool in the back of his throat. He struggles, lungs begging for air, coughing, his feet flailing. Kate's smiling face hovering above him, once she climbs into the rig, settles him down. Like an angel, she takes his hand, blotting his mouth with some gauze as the doors slam shut, and they take off up the alley, bouncing over potholes with the siren blaring.

Her eyes stay glued to his, her face pale and etched with worry. He can feel how much she loves him in the grip of her fingers and the panic that keeps tightening her mouth, robbing them both of the beautiful smile she's bravely trying to keep alive.

In years gone by, he would have done anything to know her heart like this, to see her need for him written all over her face, his own pain and fear mirrored in her eyes.

Hell, even today, it's still damn pretty cool. He'll take it. He's got her. They made it.

If only he wasn't in so much pain.

TBC...


	22. Chapter 22

**_Slow Burn_**

 _Chapter 22_

Kate is slumped on a hard plastic chair, her head bowed over her knees. Her elbows are pressing into her thighs, hard enough to leave indentations. In this position, her hair has fallen forward, screening her face from view. When Alexis slips into the room and hears her sniff, the girl's first thought is to silently slip back out, to give Kate some privacy, maybe take a walk. But as she pauses with her hand on the doorknob, listening to the detective's uncharacteristic sounds of distress, something inside of her softens.

"Kate?" she whispers, summoning the courage to edge further into the hospital room and close the door behind her.

At the sound of her name, Kate startles. She raises her head and pulls her feet together, rubbing her hands up and down her thighs. Her eyes are red-rimmed, her cheeks damp, and there's no way to hide it. She also looks guilty. Alexis takes a couple of steps towards her. Quickly, Kate dries her face with the back of her thumb and the cuff of her shirt, laughing with a kind of weak embarrassment.

"Dad's going to be okay," Alexis says, softly. She glances out towards the hallway, gesturing down the corridor in the direction he was wheeled away. "They said the scan is just a precaution. He'll need a few stitches in his tongue…maybe some dental work…"

When Kate's face crumples from the fragile smile and she has to stifle a choked sound, Alexis sinks to her knees in front of her. She takes Kate's hands, helpless to know what else to do. Kate Beckett doesn't scare easily, so her reaction is more than a little unsettling. Alexis was trying hard not to freak out after seeing her dad covered in blood, his eye puffy, his tongue swollen. She's used to Kate being the grown-up, the stoic, so she feels at a loss.

Neither of them says anything for a moment or two. When Kate finally speaks, Alexis wonders if the voice is coming from inside her own head. But Kate's fingers twitch in her small, pale hands and she realizes that it is the detective's voice she's hearing.

Kate closes her eyes and frowns, knitting her brow tightly. When she opens them again, she says, "Now I know how it feels." She shakes her head in disbelief. "How your dad must have felt." She chews her lip then presses them together into a tight line as a tear rolls down her face. She bats it away and sniffs. "When he saw me, down…bleeding, and⏤" She chokes and hiccups. Alexis squeezes her fingers tighter before giving up and pulling her into a hug.

"He could have died," Kate hisses into Alexis' hair, her voice breaking. "He could have died today."

Castle's daughter pulls back to look at her. She shakes her head. Her face is paler than usual. "He's okay. It's not that bad," she insists as much to reassure herself as for Kate's benefit.

"But it could have been." Kate's voice rises as she relives the panic she felt the moment they realized that the attacker had escaped the brownstone into the alley, the white-hot horror of that moment and what it might mean. "That perp had a gun and⏤"

Alexis' eyes grow so wide they look like turquoise fishing holes cut into a frozen lake. She recoils. "He had a _gun?_ No one told me that."

Kate looks even guiltier now. She's telling the girl things her own father probably wouldn't want her to know. But she's in shock and Alexis is the only one here, and so she finds herself offloading, unfairly, onto the teen.

"I'm so sorry, Alexis, for putting your dad in harm's way. That's…it's on me. I told him to go into that alley because I thought it was the safest place for him." She rakes a hand through her hair and carries on as if talking to herself. "But what was I thinking? If the guy ran that Rick would just tackle him for us? Hold him down until some armed cops could come? So stupid," she spits.

Alexis listens as Kate berates herself. She agrees with everything the older woman is saying. This is precisely how she reacted after Kate's shooting, after seeing her father throw himself in front of her, thanking God that her hero of a dad was still just a writer and not actually faster than a speeding bullet. It made her angry; it made her afraid; it made her lash out. But she knows that the root of that anger was fear, and she understands enough about love to know that her father would do the same thing again and again.

For both of them.

Her dad grew up without a father, without a male role model, he still knows nothing of the man whose genes make up half of him. And while Martha could be wonderful, amusing, and fun, she wasn't able to give her son much of a settled home life growing up. Kate, by contrast, had the most stable, loving upbringing a child could wish for. When she lost her mother, she retreated from the world, avoiding forming emotional bonds with anyone, fearing they might be torn away. Alexis' dad overcame his shaky start. He embraced life and the people around him with more joy, optimism, and generosity than most people ever hope to manage. Alexis has watched Kate trying to be more like her dad: more open, hopeful, loving, and happy. And she's seen her father blossom in the light of Kate's love. She doesn't want to do anything that might jeopardize that for either of them. So she decides to help nurture it instead.

Alexis takes Kate's hands again, gripping them firmly and giving them a little shake to get her attention, to pull her out of her own head. "Kate, please look at me. You got a fright today. We all did. But it's okay. Dad's going to be okay. They might even fix his crooked smile."

Kate nods and swallows noisily. She even manages to raise a smile of her own. "I love his crooked smile," she says. "I don't want them to fix it."

"Me, too," Alexis says, hugging her. "But he's tougher than you think…way tougher. In fact, he's the strongest man I know. Don't make the same mistake he made after you were shot. Don't blame yourself and turn away. Focus on him. Help him heal. You guys were doing great. So great. He's happier than he's been my entire life…because he's with you."

Kate listens, surprised and touched, as Alexis imparts such grown-up advice.

"What is it they say? Nobody's tomorrow is promised?" Alexis squeezes her fingers. "Don't waste any more tomorrows, Kate. You have my blessing…not that you needed it." She laughs and her cheeks flame. "I just mean…make my dad happy. Make each other happy. Do whatever it takes to make that happen. You've both waited long enough."

* * *

Kate is dozing in a large vinyl armchair next to the empty bed when Castle is delivered back to the room in a wheelchair this time. She wakes suddenly with her heart hammering when the orderly crashes one wheel into the door with a boom not unlike a gunshot.

Castle's poor face is bruised and battered, distorted by the swelling. His eye is purple and swollen almost shut. But he smiles the second he sees Kate, his expression still one of joy no matter the wince of pain that follows immediately after. She thinks she's never seen him look at her with such love.

Kate holds his hand while a young doctor numbs Castle's tongue in preparation for repairing the laceration with dissolvable stitches. His mouth will take up to three weeks to heal, the doctor tells them. While the man's back is turned, Castle manages to crack a dirty joke about cunnilingus through an act of mime alone. Kate finds herself laughing despite her guilt over the day's trauma, and as she strokes her partner's fingers and he grips her hand tightly to distract from the injection, her decision solidifies.

The CT scan is clear; there's no sign of a concussion. Castle is discharged an hour later with a bag of painkillers, a course of antibiotics, and a sheet of instructions to help with healing.

When they get out of the cab on Broome Street, it is the best feeling. They've only been gone since this morning, but unlocking the front door and walking inside together hand in hand is like returning from a long trip away. Kate can't believe how quickly the loft has come to signify home to her, to feel like home. She thinks it might have a lot to do with the man she's currently helping into bed.

Castle can't speak properly and so she props him up on a stack of pillows to help him breathe and swallow.

"I ordered chicken noodle soup from Sal's. How about I bring us a couple of trays in here? We can let our soup cool then slurp it together."

He nods, adding an indistinct mooing sound that approximates a yes.

Kate pauses by the bedroom door, her hand on the doorframe. "And Castle, I also think we should talk."

* * *

When she returns with Castle's tray, balancing the cooling soup, a cup of ice chips, and a quart of ice cream with two spoons, he sitting up in bed where she left him, but he's scribbling furiously on a notepad. He looks pale, beat up, and exhausted, and Kate's heart twinges with pain at the sight of him.

Gently, she places the tray onto the solid mattress by his side. Before she can do anything else he hands her the notepad. She reads his untidy scrawl in silence.

 _I promise I'll do better. Please don't bench me. I'll even stay in the car next time._

Kate finishes reading and puts the notepad down on the nightstand then she crawls onto the bed to sit down beside him.

"Rick," she says quietly, taking his hand.

Castle is staring down at the bowl of soup. He looks as if he is pouting, though this might simply be a feature of his swollen mouth. Kate moves closer until she can stroke his bruised face with the back of her hand.

"Castle?"

He turns to look at her with such terrible sadness in his eyes.

"Why so sad? Do you need more pain meds?" she asks.

He shakes his head and mumbles something like "peese jus say it." Then he dabs at his mouth with a tissue.

Kate watches him for a long moment, taking time to study his face: every line, every hollow. She knows him so well and yet she forces herself to look at him with fresh eyes; taking in the glacial changes that have crept up on them over the last four years while she was looking but not really seeing.

She lowers her eyes and when she raises them again, they're glistening. Her throat is tight when she swallows and she has to clear it so that she can speak.

"I owe you an apology, Rick."

She watches him frown immediately and begin to open his mouth to refute her claim. She stops him with a gentle shake of her head.

"Please. Just listen, okay?" He nods. She squeezes his fingers in gratitude. "When you came to see me at the hospital after I was shot…"

Castle's face stiffens when he hears her opening salvo. She strokes the back of his hand and carries on.

"I...I was in no position to think about what you had been through that day…what you were _still_ going through. Forget the whole mess with Josh… My relationship with him never touched us. Never. It was always going to be about us once we figured out how to get past the...complication of being partners first."

She lets this fact sink in before she picks up again.

"When you visited me that day, I was too damaged, too fragile to even begin to imagine how _you_ must have been feeling. It hurt to breathe, Rick, I couldn't go to the bathroom by myself. I didn't know if I'd ever get my life back. So…I wasn't able to think about your side, about what you must have gone through when everything happened...and after. I know it sounds selfish, but I didn't have it in me."

Kate frowns to herself as these memories subside and she rubs her forehead with the heel of her hand. When she raises her head and looks him right in the eye, hers are shining with tears while his eyes are soft with sympathy.

"But I know now," she says, her voice vibrating with emotion, her chin trembling.

She clears her throat a second time but her voice is still thin as a whisper when she carries on. "I understand now...a little of what you went through in that cemetery. When I saw you in the alley today, blood running down your face…" She bites her lip, trying to hold the worst of it in. "Rick, I'm so sorry," she whispers hoarsely. "I'm so sorry that I shut you out, that I left you to deal with everything by yourself. I loved you, too. I loved you, and I should never have run away. Not without you."

She shakes her head and stares at her lap in shame. Rabid hunger and the smell of cooling soup are making her feel queasy. "Some partner I turned out to be," she says bitterly.

She feels Castle touch her arm. When she looks up, he is watching her. His expression is so serious, so fearful that she realizes he doesn't understand what any of this means for them now. Coping with her mother's death, being the best she could be on the job…she thought those things required isolation and strict self-reliance. But living, and it's living a life she's interested in now, that takes openness, love, courage, and collaboration. She takes his hand.

"What I'm trying to say is…actually, Alexis said it best." This gets Castle's attention. "Nobody's tomorrow is promised. That's what she told me at the hospital, and she's right. She's so right." She wets her lips. "I want us to grab our tomorrow today, Rick." When Castle's eyebrows furrow in confusion, Kate releases a watery laugh that sounds wonderfully crazed. "I want us to get married. As soon as possible, Castle. Forget a long engagement, or…or the perfect venue, a massive guest list. Let's just do it, please? Forget about everything else. I just want to be your wife."

 _TBC..._

* * *

 _A/N: Slow Burn was definitely the right title for this one, emphasis on the slow. I'd be delighted if you'd leave a review. Thank you, Liv_


End file.
